Ice Moon
by TwilightGirl33
Summary: Promise Lovell moves to Forks, Washington from Alaska to live her godmother. She expects her life to be dull and plain. But when she meets mysterious Edward Cullen everything changes. Will their love survive or will there be consequences? AU
1. Chapter 1

I'd never given much thought to how I would die; though I'd had enough in the last few months, but even if I had, I would have not imagined it like this.

I glared across the room, while standing protectively in front of my little sister, into the dark eyes of the hunter.

Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. I was keeping my promise to myseld to protect Aurora.

I knew that if I'd never gone to Forks, Aurora and I wouldnt be facing death now. But I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision.

When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's not resonable to grieve when it comes to an end. The hunter stalked toward us with an evil grin on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and all it's affiliates, minus any unrecognizable characters you are about to be introduced to. Those are mine. And they're going to stay mine so I can at least say I own something! :)  
Chapter One – First Sight

My father drove me to the airport with the windows rolled up. It was snowy day in Juneau; the sky was clear, cloudless, and blue. I was wearing my favourite outfit – a dark blue v-neck with , black jeans, and my black boots. Aurora and I had picked it out the day before. I zipped up the jacket my father brought me because it was getting colder by the minute.  
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the good ol' US of A. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my godmother lived. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to start new since my mother's death four years ago. That was the year my whole life changed. Now I was leaving behind my father and sister in Alaska. He was very calm about the whole situation and understood why I wanted to move because of the horrible memories. He understood why I couldn't stay in Alaska any more and move in with my godmother, Lucy Hayden.  
But it was now to Forks that I was dooming myself – an action that I took with gritted teeth. I detested Forks in the same way that I loved Alaska. And I did love it here– the snow, the wildlife, the mountains, my family, my life.  
" Promise, " My father said to me quietly, as he handed me my carry-on. " You don't have to do this."  
" I know, but I need to." I whispered, to him as I turned to my little sister.  
My mother's death had made our family closer. It left me with the responsibility to take of my sister. Aurora was a tweleve year old girl with an intelligent mind. She loved to paint and draw just like me, and meant much to me as I did to her. She idolized me in a way that could possible, and had to grow up quickly at a young age.  
I kissed my father on the cheek – much to his dismay – before turning to Aroura. Aroura and I best friends and sisters. This was the hardest thing to do- tell her goodbye. She was everything to me and I would miss her alot.  
" Don't forget to call me and never forget that I love you."  
" I love you too." She stared back at me with those clear blue eyes of hers. I knew that this was just as hard for her.  
"We'll see you soon. Maybe over the summer?" She smiled wryly. We both knew it wouldn't happen. "You can come back whenever you feel ready."  
I bit my lip, out of emotion. I had nothing more to say to her and she knew that I would not be coming ba I bit my lip, not out of emotion, but so I wouldn't bite my tongue. I had nothing more to say to her and she knew that I would not be coming back any time soon. And I would burst into tears any second now.  
"Bye, Dad. We'll talk."  
"You'll get homesick eventually." He reprimanded light-heartedly. It was hidden in a joke but the slight threat was sincere. I looked to Aroura who was fighting not to roll her eyes. I smiled at her.  
"I'll miss you, blue eyes." I said to Aroura. She smiled, but I was shocked to see her holding back tears. It was so unlike her. And because of those tears, it made the realism of it hit me like a brick. Tears fought their way into my vision as well.  
"I'll miss you too snow girl." We held each other for a moment, trying not to let go and not to let go of the tears in our eyes before I pulled us apart.  
"I'm going to miss my plane." I explained, as I used my sleeve to wipe my cheek. I had lost the battle. She sniffled.  
I took one last look at them dashed into the corridor to get to my plane. This shouldn't be so hard, I was the one who had made this decision; but it was hard. It was very hard. It's one thing to go visit Lucy for a few weeks in the summer; it's another thing entirely when I'm living with her.  
I kept to my thoughts and my black art book during the six hour journey; this included two flights and an hour drive. I didn't want to seem rude to Lucy so on the fifth hour when she came to pick me up from Port Angeles – the closest city, from what I remembered – I put my book away planned to be attentive.  
Lucy had been fairly nice about the whole thing. She was like a second mother to me. Aftery mother died she helped my family and I through alot; and looked after us. She was excited that I decided to come and live with her. She'd already gotten me ready for school and had gotten me a brand new car – though that one always made me antsy. She always got me exspensive gifts, which I appreciated.  
It was weird riding in the front seat of a police cruiser – not that I'd been in the back of one. My godmother is Police Chief Lucy Hayden of Forks, Washington. I was excited to get the car, so that I wouldn't have to worry about getting to school in a police car.  
She gave me a huge hug when I stumbled off the plane; exhausted.  
"Good to see you, Proms, " she smiled at me. I smiled back at her warmly.  
"You haven't changed much. How's Aurora and Rob?" I'm sure that she noticed my face twitch.  
They're both fine. It's good to see you, too Luce."  
I had quite a few bags. If I was living here, I wasn't going to be uncomfortable. I brought alot of my draeings, probably far too many pictures, and things I was sure I couldn't live without. Not to mention things that even though I was living without my normal life for the year, I knew I would be able to use in solitude. Luckily, even in Alaska it was always cold so my clothes would transfer well to the change in climate. She helped me load everything into the trunk and back seats before she decided to speak again.  
"I found a good, new car for you, really cheap, " she announced as I strapped myself in. My eyes widened as I suspiciously waited for more information... "Well, it's a Mustang."  
I grinned, but I was still suspicious. One of the things my godmother and I had in common was our love for cars. I was one of the only girls I knew who understood cars. Lucy herself had a Black Mercedes that she drove around with.  
"Where did you find it?"  
" I found it in Seattle at a car sale."  
What colour is it?" I was curious and excited at the same time.  
"It's grey." I grinned at her because she knew that grey was one of my favorite colors.  
How cheap is cheap?" I sighed, wondering if I should just help put the money out since it was so expensive. She suddenly looked sheepish.  
"Well, sweetie, " the word sounded comforting. "I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Her expression was hopeful as she looked at me.  
" Thanks. I really appreciate it." I wanted to be happy here, too. But something told me an new cheap, car wasn't all it was going to take.  
"Well, now, you're welcome." she mumbled. We exchanged a few comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for conversation. I pretended to be tired from jet lag and luckily, she didn't mention anything about my mother.  
Forks was beautiful. There was no denying it, even if I was far from proper civilization. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered in ferns.  
Eventually we made it to Lucy's house. She still lived in the four bedroom house that she bought right after mom died. It was a very homey house and something I could see living in for the next...however long.  
It was a grey 2003 Ford Mustang. The headlights had been changed a bit to make them look new. The seats were leather and had that new car scent. The tires were perfect; and it had a built in radio. My godmother knew me well, it was perfect.  
" Holy shit!" I exclaimed. "I love it!"  
"Hey, now." Lucy frowned. "Don't be thinking you can get away with cursing."  
I smiled, looking back at my car and running my hand over my polished hood. This would certainly make my day better. I knew people would stare but I really didn't care. I liked the fact I had something to ride to school into. Something with character. Something with history and a story and a badass personality.  
"It really is great." I assured when I saw her looking at it sceptically.  
I'm glad you like it, " Lucy said, as she hugged me.  
She then helped me take my things upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the side of the house; that had you could see the forest from. Maybe one day when I was bored enough I'd figure out what type of trees it was. I knew the room well; from the dark blue colored walls, wooden floor, the peaked ceiling, the black lace curtains around the window – those were all things I remembered. The newer parts – a new desk and a bigger bed covered in a teal bedspread. On the desk was a mini laptop - which surprised me, and a phone that was connected to the wall. My mother's rocking chair, which had become my favourite piece of furniture as I grew, still sat in the corner.  
Strangely, it felt very much like home.  
One of the best things about Lucy is she doesn't hover. She left me to unpack and go through memory lane as I brought out all the pictures and made the room more suited for a seventeen year old. I realized how quiet and alone I was. No blaring music blaring from Aurora's room, and no Tv blaring. It was nice to be alone, to not have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to cry.  
I viciously wiped the tears off of my cheeks, trying to get a hold of Lovell does not cry, I tried to say over and over. But at the same time I would always add a yet to the end of it. I already had the gnawing feeling of dread deep in the pit of my stomach. Forks High School only had three hundred and fifty-seven – now fifty-eight – students; my last school, though almost as small still had just under the same amount in what would have been my graduating class. All of these kids had grown up together – their grandparents had been toddlers together. And tomorrow I would be the new girl from the a snow city, a curiosity and a freak.  
I wasn't like all of these small town kids. I liked my inexpensive yet higher fashion styled wardrobe, I had my tom boy qualities, and but could be girly when I wanted to. I had black hair that stopped in the middle of my back; I was pale and my eyes were a strange- freakishly grey-blue eyes.  
I really took after my Mom. I had her darker hair, her slim nose, her slender French frame, but I had my father's sharp cheekbones and his strange eyes. Not that my mother's eyes looked much different, you could just tell that they were his.  
When I was finally finished packing I took a quick shower in the second bathroom in the house. I was used to sharing a bathroom with Aroura who was basically attached to my hip – something told me I could manage. Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I had never fit in.  
I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even Aroura, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never quite on the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.  
I didn't sleep well that night; It was the constant whooshing of the rain that eventually what did me in – usually I listen to the sounds of rain or thunderstorms on my iPod to pass out, anyway. Maybe I'd get more sleep living here? I wonder if that comfort was something subconsciously related to my memories here.  
Breakfast with Lucy was fairly quiet. She wished me good luck at school and I thank her, knowing her luck was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Like the plague. I quickly asked her what she knew about my courses and she told me that the school had called her to apologize for the lack of English Immersion or Advanced English courses.  
Lucy left first, off to the police station that was her wife and family. After she left, I sat at the old, square, oak table in one of the three mix-matching chairs and examined her fair-sized small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, dark brown cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing had changed. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining s family room was a row of pictures. First was a picture of my mother, Aurora, and I before the accident, a picture of my dad and mom in Los Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, then a picture of my family in the hospital after Aurora had been born. I was holding her. It was strange – it was like I was going back in happier times. After that followed the procession of school pictures every year up to last. These were the worst to look at – I would have to see what I could do about getting her to move them somewhere else, at least while I was living here. I doubted I would make friends close enough to come over to hang outside of class, but I didn't want to take the chance.  
It was impossible to ignore that my godmother was still grieving over my Mom - who was her best friend. . It was almost suffocating to be in the house with all the tension of these pictures and it made me so uncomfortable that I decided to leave.  
I didn't want to be too early for school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my black and grey jacket and headed out into the constant drizzle.  
Inside the car, it was nice and dry; Lucy had cleaned it up. The seats smelled like peppermint. It was a strangely comforting smell, even if it did remind me of candy canes. The engine started quickly, to my relief, had a quiet humming sound. Well, a car this new was bound to have a nice sound. The radio worked geat, a plus that I hadn't expected.  
Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I had never been there. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it so, made it evident. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon coloured bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs that off the high way I couldn't see its size.  
I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading FRONT OFFICE. No one else was parked in this area, so I was sure that it wasn't for students, but I decided that I would get directions inside instead of circling around like an idiot – my new car would get me enough attention as it is.  
stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door, taking bets with myself over what I was going to see. What I saw – and let me win a bet with one side of my brain verses the other – was brightly lit and warm. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, like there wasn't enough of it lining the exterior of the school itself. The room as cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly coloured flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed – something that oddly didn't comfort or discomfort me.  
She looked up at me with confused eyes. "Can I help you?"  
"I'm Promise Lovell, " I explained and saw the immediate recognition in her eyes. I was expected, probably a gossip target. Daughter of the Chief's dead best friend, moves into town. I set my chin, trying to make it look a little strong.  
"Of course, " she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pike of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.  
She went through each of my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map. She gave me a slip for each teacher that I had to have them sign and bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Lucy, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.  
When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I could feel people staring at my mustang, unlike most of these; nothing flashy. At home it had been a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was either a shiny, silver Volvo. It was an S60R, probably a 2003. Or my 2003 Ford mustang. I was so embarassed at the people staring.  
I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now so that I wouldn't have my nose stuffed in papers as I walked around. I pushed everything into my sling black bag, and took a deep breath.  
You can do this, I assured half heartedly.  
I kept my face pulled back in my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My jacket did end up standing out, but it's not like I wasn't expecting stares. I was relieved I had thought to wear a sweater with hood.  
When I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. There was a large three painted in white on the side. I felt my breathing gradually creep toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two people through the door. I was greeted with a small classroom; the people in front of me were hanging their coats up on a row of hooks that I hadn't seen since I could remember. I copied them, glad that my clothes were strangely colourless today.  
I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name – not an encouraging response – and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me way in the back, but somehow they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Brontë, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner...I'd read that all two years back. I wonder if my dad would send me my folder of old essays, or if he would consider that cheating. Most likely he would consider it cheating.  
When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, an awkward and gangly Asian boy–there hadn't been many at my old school–leaned across the aisle to talk to me.  
"You're Promise Lovell, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.  
"Yeah I am, " I said. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me. I tried not to glare at them for their intrusion but realized they probably couldn't help it. I must be the first fresh meat in decades.

"Where's your next class?"

I had to check my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building...six." I couldn't look anywhere without catching someone's eyes so I looked down at my paper, trying to memorize the rest of my classes so that I wouldn't have to do this ever again.

"I'm headed for building four, I could show you the way..." Definitely the over-helpful type. "I'm Eric, " he added.

"Thanks." I smiled wryly. We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking so close just so they could eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't being paranoid, but by the way people kept stepping on my heels, it was making it hard to shoot down the thought.  
"So, this is a lot different than Jeneau, huh?" he asked. Something told me that would be the start of all conversations.  
"Not really. I mean it rains and snows there alot." It made him smile and somewhat relax, which made me feel better about it.  
"Well, good, " he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful. I smiled at him with a nod, hoping I wasn't leading him on or anything, but a friend would be nice.  
The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trig teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of what he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class to introduce myself. I rambled, blushed, tripped on my way up  
After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic but mostly I just ended up avoiding the subjects. It wasn't that I didn't like Forks – I just didn't like change. They seemed to accept the avoidance and walk me to classes so I never had to memorize my map.  
One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the caf for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than me at five foot six, but her wildly, curly hair made up a lot of the difference. I couldn't remember her name so I was the one who just smiled and nodded, only answering the questions directed towards my French, which I answered in French, so that she couldn't understand me and I could avoid using her name anyway. After that she ended up prattling on about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up. She was more of an annoyance than a friend.  
We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, each who was introduced to me like a kindergartener. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them, just because I was so annoyed with her tone. They seemed impressed by her bravery to speak to me – which made me suspicious that her motives hadn't been all that chivalrous. The boy from English – Eric? – waved at me from across the room.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.  
They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. None of them were talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. Maybe I couldn't stop staring at them because they seemed to be the only students that weren't gawking at me. It was good because I was free to stare at them without meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was one of them which caught, and held, my attention.  
They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big – muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blonde. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-coloured hair. He was more boyish than the others who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. The long, golden-haired one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure – the kind you saw on Sports Illustrated bikini covers, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self esteem just by being in the same room – I was feeling it now. I knew I was thin, but it wasn't a nice thin like her. I knew I was a bit busty and well curved, but I was flabby in comparison to her. It really did start to hurt the more I looked at her. So I looked over to the other girl who was pixie like, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.  
While these differences separated the group of them, they were all somehow alike. Everyone one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. They all had dark eyes despite their range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those dark eyes – purplish, bruise like shadows that somehow didn't take away from their beauty. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, and angular.

But again, this was not why I couldn't look away.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful – maybe the blond girl or the bronze haired boy?

They were all looking away – thank God, or they would have seen me ogling – from each other and students. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray – unopened soda, unbitten apple – and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed by her lithe dancer's step – I hadn't even seen things like that in my school. Nothing that flawlessly natural. She dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have though possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who didn't budge.  
"Who are they?" I asked the annoying girl from my Spanish class.

As she looked up to see who I meant – though already knowing, probably, from my tone – suddenly he looked at her, the thinner, boyish one. Maybe he was the youngest. He looked at my neighbour for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered over to mine.  
She giggled in embarrassment, looking down and away from them like I had. "That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen, they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.

The beautiful boy – by far the most attractive of the males – was now picking a bagel to pieces with his long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three weren't looking at him but somehow, I could just tell he was talking to them, though I had no idea what he could be saying that they would be able to comprehend at that speed.  
" Why did you say there names like that?" I asked her, as I bit into my apple. It was like she was telling a dirty secret or something.  
She shrugged. "They are all together though – Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together." Her voice held the judgement that only a small town girl could have, I thought critically. But I could understand why it would have caused gossip.  
Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related..."

"Oh, they're not." She clarified. "Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties or something. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins – the blondes – and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's sweet," according to the look she gave me, I had just sprouted several more heads. "I mean, it's sweet for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so, " Jessica agreed reluctantly and I could tell that she was still holding on to her critical views of what she thought a family should be. Like I said she sounded mean.  
"I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have kids, though, " she added as if that made it all make sense. I turned towards her with a blank face, hiding my disgust. Something told me that this Jessica girl and I would be butting heads often.

"That makes it all the more compassionate." I said in a monotone, trying not to show my frustration.

"Yeah, more like desperate."

More like kinder than you've ever seen in your narrow minded little world, I wanted to his back. But Aurora had told me to play nice and not talk back yet. I would hold my promise, since that was my name.

"Compassion can bring on things that people without it will never understand." I bit back. It was still a downright insult, but I had hoped that she would see past it by asking a sooner question. "Have they always lived in Forks?" I tried to remember through my memories if I had ever seen walking angels in this town – sadly, I had none that I could remember.  
No, " She said bluntly. I wondered if she thought I was stupid or even asking. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska, just like you."My eyes widened in disbelief. They were from that same place I came from! I never heard of them or anything. Weird.  
"What?!" I whispered. " Strange."  
As I watched them, more creepily than inconspicuously, the youngest one of the Cullen's turned and met my stare. This time his expression was dripping with curiosity, which made my blush and quickly look away. I didn't like that flicker of unmet expectation from him. Like that blonde one hadn't knocked my insecurities enough...

"Which is the one with the reddish brown hair?" I asked, rubbing my neck with the sole intention of throwing my hair over my face. I peeked through the curtain I'd created and saw him still staring, but not gawking like the other students had today – he still wore that same odd expression that again made me look down in some unrecognizable form of shame.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed – ah. It was pretty clear what that meant and I briefly wondered how long ago it had been that he had rejected her.  
I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling at the thought. Glancing at him again, basic instinct it felt like, I saw that his lips were tight, too. Almost like he was holding back a smile, himself. After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. Each was shockingly graceful in an unnerving way. The one named Edward didn't look my way again.  
I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends a little longer than I would have normally, but my first day jitters got the best of me and I was completely paranoid of being late for my first day of class. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela – I liked her already – had Biology II with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence, which was nice. She realized that even though I wasn't as shy as her, I was still awkward.  
I walked to introduce myself to the teacher, named Mr. Banner, who was an energetic, middle-aged man that wasted no nonsense on introductions. As I reached towards him to exchange the slip that needed to be signed for the textbook he had assigned me, I saw Edward go rigid in my peripheral vision. It drew my eyes to him, now he was staring again. The look on his face was so shocking that as I walked towards him, I suddenly couldn't move anymore. There was so much hostility, so much hate. It made my blood run cold.

I almost fell into my seat, thanks to the girl who left her books right in the aisle. She giggled and I glared at her, raising my eyebrows in challenge. She stopped immediately and turned back to face Mr. Banner. I smiled towards Edward, hoping the scene had lightened his spirits, but was shocked to see that he was just ass furious as he had been. But I couldn't look away – his eyes were coal black. Like a starless night or a bottomless ocean.

I swallowed and hid behind my curtain of hair once more. I heard his posture change and with a glance through my hair, I could see that his posture had changed. He was now leaning as far from me as possible, his hand balled into fists, face towards the windows and were his – yes, his eyes were squeezed shut.

Inconspicuously I smelled myself. My hair smelled like vanilla and I could still smell the lingering scent of my spiced vanilla body wash and spring fresh antiperspirant. I had a strange obsession with how I smelt and my favourite smell was vanilla, so I always tended to pulsate it.

Unfortunately, the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I had never studied. I delved into my notes, making them far more detailed than I normally would have – any other time I would have referenced my textbook later – but I couldn't bring myself to look past my curtain of hair to the boy I could still feel glaring at me. And yeah, I didn't think it was actually possible outside of a book to think you can feel someone's eyes on you, but there was so much hate behind it, how could I not?

The one time I did dare to peek at him, I took in everything as quickly as possible and was horrified by the result. He had not taken his eyes off me, he had not relaxed, and his hands were clenched into tendoned fists that were so vicious I couldn't understand how I had ever thought him slight, even beside his burly brother.

Needless to say, this class lasted for far too long. I was antsy the entire time and I couldn't stop squirming under his scrutiny – it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life and yet nothing was actually happening. He was silent, he was deadly, and he was completely removed from the environment. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behaviour? If looks could kill, I would be sixty feet under, right now. Maybe Jessica wasn't as resentful as I thought and the boy really did have issues that needed to be dealt with – by a professional, it seemed. I mean, how could this have anything to do with me? I hadn't said a word to him; I hadn't touched him or had the time to offend him – even though I never would have. Would have, anyway. Maybe now I wouldn't be so courteous.

When the bell rang, I jumped. Mostly because Edward, even in his stupor, had somehow anticipated the ring and was out of his seat and walking past me as it wailed. He was taller than I thought as he passed people before they could stand, and he was out the door before anyone else could give a second glance.

I sat planted in my seat, completely terrified. He was cruel. It wasn't fair. I began gathering my things in a daze, thinking about how much of a dick that guy must be to d this to me on my first day – to ruin my day, month, year, and each day until graduation – just because he could. There was a moment where I tried to pretend like this wouldn't affect me for that long, but I was usually honest with myself and I knew that, for some strange reason, it invariably will.  
Aren't you Promise Lovell?" a male voice asked. The owner of that voice was a cute, baby-faced boy, with pale blonde hair that was carefully gelled into orderly spikes. He smiled more friendly than I could have thought possible after the hour of disgust I'd sat beside. He must have smelled the vanilla.  
" Yes". I said.  
Do you need help finding your next class?" He smiled almost too much, but now I couldn't be sure if I was so desensitised from Edward's anger or if it really was excessive. I shook my head.

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I'll manage."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled with this; though the school was so small I was sure I'd had classes with two or three other people in each so far. Nevertheless, we walked to class together; he was a chatterer – he supplied most of the conversation on his own, which made things easy for me since I was still so zoned out. He apparently was a little bit of a newbie, himself – living in California until he was ten, so he didn't know how to live in cold weather for a long time. He was also in my English class – called it.

"So did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what?" He asked as we walked into the gym. "I've never seen him act like that." I winced. So this wasn't his normal behaviour. Lucky me was a special case of...whatever the hell that was.

"You mean the dick from Biology?" I muttered darkly. He laughed almost too loud.

"Yes, " he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."

"I never spoke to him." I sighed. "Apparently he can feel my poverty through his Prada shirt."

"He's a weird guy." He chuckled. Instead of heading to the dressing room, he lingered and watched me with amusement in his crazily-blue eyes. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

Almost immediately, I decided it was time to change. He was friendly and admiring, but I was irritated and not even the most attractive boy – ironically enough, to me that was Edward Cullen – wouldn't have stood a chance.

The Gym Teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress for today. At home, you only needed two years of Gym was but here it was a four year requirement. Another stab at my day. Luckily I watched four volleyball games simultaneously instead of participating, I didn't need to be active today, it seemed. Thank. God.

When the final bell rang, I felt like I could cry from happiness. I walked to the office to return my slips of paper and smiled at the lack of rain...the smile didn't last long as my bones were chilled by the wind. When I walked into the office I was assaulted by an angry, honey tone of someone talking to the receptionist. I closed my eyes and held my breath when I realized it was Edward Cullen.

His tousled bronze hair was what gave him away and he was so busy quietly yelling to her that he hadn't noticed me enter. He was arguing in a low, attractive voice – much lower than I would have expected him to have. The argument was very clear, he was trying to trade form sixth hour Biology.

This couldn't be about me. This had to be about something else that had happened before I had gotten there. Something that happened that had nothing to do with the new girl he hadn't spoken a word to...right? It was impossible that a stranger could take such a sudden, intense hatred towards me.

The door opened again and I gasped from the cold wind that whipped through the room. The girl who came in put a note in the wire basket and walked out again, but Edward Cullens back had stiffened. Somehow – and I had no idea how it could be – he turned around and knew I was there. His face was absurdly handsome – even with his piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then, " he said hastily with a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turned on his heal without another look at me, and disappeared out the door. I took my moment to breathe out his absence before I walked meekly to the desk, face pale to hand her each signature.

"How did your first day go, dear" The receptionist asked maternally.

"Dandy, " I said sarcastically. She gave me a look of sympathy right after the one of shock – she must have thought I would have lied. Well, she clearly didn't know me at all.  
When I got to my car, I was glad that I was one of the last cars in the lot. It seemed like a safe-haven, closer to home than anywhere else I had been since I had gotten off the plane. I sat for a while, wondering what I could do to get my mind out of this rut of...what? Fear? Self-consciousness? I thought of my promise to Aurora and decided to just ignore; stupid Edward Cullen.

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and all it's affiliates, minus any unrecognizable characters you are about to be introduced to. Those are mine. And they're going to stay mine so I can at least say I own something! :)  
Chapter One – First Sight

My father drove me to the airport with the windows rolled up. It was snowy day in Juneau; the sky was clear, cloudless, and blue. I was wearing my favourite outfit – a dark blue v-neck with , black jeans, and my black boots. Aurora and I had picked it out the day before. I zipped up the jacket my father brought me because it was getting colder by the minute.  
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the good ol' US of A. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my godmother lived. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to start new since my mother's death four years ago. That was the year my whole life changed. Now I was leaving behind my father and sister in Alaska. He was very calm about the whole situation and understood why I wanted to move because of the horrible memories. He understood why I couldn't stay in Alaska any more and move in with my godmother, Lucy Hayden.  
But it was now to Forks that I was dooming myself – an action that I took with gritted teeth. I detested Forks in the same way that I loved Alaska. And I did love it here– the snow, the wildlife, the mountains, my family, my life.  
" Promise, " My father said to me quietly, as he handed me my carry-on. " You don't have to do this."  
" I know, but I need to." I whispered, to him as I turned to my little sister.  
My mother's death had made our family closer. It left me with the responsibility to take of my sister. Aurora was a tweleve year old girl with an intelligent mind. She loved to paint and draw just like me, and meant much to me as I did to her. She idolized me in a way that could possible, and had to grow up quickly at a young age.  
I kissed my father on the cheek – much to his dismay – before turning to Aroura. Aroura and I best friends and sisters. This was the hardest thing to do- tell her goodbye. She was everything to me and I would miss her alot.  
" Don't forget to call me and never forget that I love you."  
" I love you too." She stared back at me with those clear blue eyes of hers. I knew that this was just as hard for her.  
"We'll see you soon. Maybe over the summer?" She smiled wryly. We both knew it wouldn't happen. "You can come back whenever you feel ready."  
I bit my lip, out of emotion. I had nothing more to say to her and she knew that I would not be coming ba I bit my lip, not out of emotion, but so I wouldn't bite my tongue. I had nothing more to say to her and she knew that I would not be coming back any time soon. And I would burst into tears any second now.  
"Bye, Dad. We'll talk."  
"You'll get homesick eventually." He reprimanded light-heartedly. It was hidden in a joke but the slight threat was sincere. I looked to Aroura who was fighting not to roll her eyes. I smiled at her.  
"I'll miss you, blue eyes." I said to Aroura. She smiled, but I was shocked to see her holding back tears. It was so unlike her. And because of those tears, it made the realism of it hit me like a brick. Tears fought their way into my vision as well.  
"I'll miss you too snow girl." We held each other for a moment, trying not to let go and not to let go of the tears in our eyes before I pulled us apart.  
"I'm going to miss my plane." I explained, as I used my sleeve to wipe my cheek. I had lost the battle. She sniffled.  
I took one last look at them dashed into the corridor to get to my plane. This shouldn't be so hard, I was the one who had made this decision; but it was hard. It was very hard. It's one thing to go visit Lucy for a few weeks in the summer; it's another thing entirely when I'm living with her.  
I kept to my thoughts and my black art book during the six hour journey; this included two flights and an hour drive. I didn't want to seem rude to Lucy so on the fifth hour when she came to pick me up from Port Angeles – the closest city, from what I remembered – I put my book away planned to be attentive.  
Lucy had been fairly nice about the whole thing. She was like a second mother to me. Aftery mother died she helped my family and I through alot; and looked after us. She was excited that I decided to come and live with her. She'd already gotten me ready for school and had gotten me a brand new car – though that one always made me antsy. She always got me exspensive gifts, which I appreciated.  
It was weird riding in the front seat of a police cruiser – not that I'd been in the back of one. My godmother is Police Chief Lucy Hayden of Forks, Washington. I was excited to get the car, so that I wouldn't have to worry about getting to school in a police car.  
She gave me a huge hug when I stumbled off the plane; exhausted.  
"Good to see you, Proms, " she smiled at me. I smiled back at her warmly.  
"You haven't changed much. How's Aurora and Rob?" I'm sure that she noticed my face twitch.  
They're both fine. It's good to see you, too Luce."  
I had quite a few bags. If I was living here, I wasn't going to be uncomfortable. I brought alot of my draeings, probably far too many pictures, and things I was sure I couldn't live without. Not to mention things that even though I was living without my normal life for the year, I knew I would be able to use in solitude. Luckily, even in Alaska it was always cold so my clothes would transfer well to the change in climate. She helped me load everything into the trunk and back seats before she decided to speak again.  
"I found a good, new car for you, really cheap, " she announced as I strapped myself in. My eyes widened as I suspiciously waited for more information... "Well, it's a Mustang."  
I grinned, but I was still suspicious. One of the things my godmother and I had in common was our love for cars. I was one of the only girls I knew who understood cars. Lucy herself had a Black Mercedes that she drove around with.  
"Where did you find it?"  
" I found it in Seattle at a car sale."  
What colour is it?" I was curious and excited at the same time.  
"It's grey." I grinned at her because she knew that grey was one of my favorite colors.  
How cheap is cheap?" I sighed, wondering if I should just help put the money out since it was so expensive. She suddenly looked sheepish.  
"Well, sweetie, " the word sounded comforting. "I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Her expression was hopeful as she looked at me.  
" Thanks. I really appreciate it." I wanted to be happy here, too. But something told me an new cheap, car wasn't all it was going to take.  
"Well, now, you're welcome." she mumbled. We exchanged a few comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for conversation. I pretended to be tired from jet lag and luckily, she didn't mention anything about my mother.  
Forks was beautiful. There was no denying it, even if I was far from proper civilization. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered in ferns.  
Eventually we made it to Lucy's house. She still lived in the four bedroom house that she bought right after mom died. It was a very homey house and something I could see living in for the next...however long.  
It was a grey 2003 Ford Mustang. The headlights had been changed a bit to make them look new. The seats were leather and had that new car scent. The tires were perfect; and it had a built in radio. My godmother knew me well, it was perfect.  
" Holy shit!" I exclaimed. "I love it!"  
"Hey, now." Lucy frowned. "Don't be thinking you can get away with cursing."  
I smiled, looking back at my car and running my hand over my polished hood. This would certainly make my day better. I knew people would stare but I really didn't care. I liked the fact I had something to ride to school into. Something with character. Something with history and a story and a badass personality.  
"It really is great." I assured when I saw her looking at it sceptically.  
I'm glad you like it, " Lucy said, as she hugged me.  
She then helped me take my things upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the side of the house; that had you could see the forest from. Maybe one day when I was bored enough I'd figure out what type of trees it was. I knew the room well; from the dark blue colored walls, wooden floor, the peaked ceiling, the black lace curtains around the window – those were all things I remembered. The newer parts – a new desk and a bigger bed covered in a teal bedspread. On the desk was a mini laptop - which surprised me, and a phone that was connected to the wall. My mother's rocking chair, which had become my favourite piece of furniture as I grew, still sat in the corner.  
Strangely, it felt very much like home.  
One of the best things about Lucy is she doesn't hover. She left me to unpack and go through memory lane as I brought out all the pictures and made the room more suited for a seventeen year old. I realized how quiet and alone I was. No blaring music blaring from Aurora's room, and no Tv blaring. It was nice to be alone, to not have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to cry.  
I viciously wiped the tears off of my cheeks, trying to get a hold of Lovell does not cry, I tried to say over and over. But at the same time I would always add a yet to the end of it. I already had the gnawing feeling of dread deep in the pit of my stomach. Forks High School only had three hundred and fifty-seven – now fifty-eight – students; my last school, though almost as small still had just under the same amount in what would have been my graduating class. All of these kids had grown up together – their grandparents had been toddlers together. And tomorrow I would be the new girl from the a snow city, a curiosity and a freak.  
I wasn't like all of these small town kids. I liked my inexpensive yet higher fashion styled wardrobe, I had my tom boy qualities, and but could be girly when I wanted to. I had black hair that stopped in the middle of my back; I was pale and my eyes were a strange- freakishly grey-blue eyes.  
I really took after my Mom. I had her darker hair, her slim nose, her slender French frame, but I had my father's sharp cheekbones and his strange eyes. Not that my mother's eyes looked much different, you could just tell that they were his.  
When I was finally finished packing I took a quick shower in the second bathroom in the house. I was used to sharing a bathroom with Aroura who was basically attached to my hip – something told me I could manage. Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I had never fit in.  
I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even Aroura, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never quite on the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.  
I didn't sleep well that night; It was the constant whooshing of the rain that eventually what did me in – usually I listen to the sounds of rain or thunderstorms on my iPod to pass out, anyway. Maybe I'd get more sleep living here? I wonder if that comfort was something subconsciously related to my memories here.  
Breakfast with Lucy was fairly quiet. She wished me good luck at school and I thank her, knowing her luck was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Like the plague. I quickly asked her what she knew about my courses and she told me that the school had called her to apologize for the lack of English Immersion or Advanced English courses.  
Lucy left first, off to the police station that was her wife and family. After she left, I sat at the old, square, oak table in one of the three mix-matching chairs and examined her fair-sized small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, dark brown cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing had changed. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining s family room was a row of pictures. First was a picture of my mother, Aurora, and I before the accident, a picture of my dad and mom in Los Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, then a picture of my family in the hospital after Aurora had been born. I was holding her. It was strange – it was like I was going back in happier times. After that followed the procession of school pictures every year up to last. These were the worst to look at – I would have to see what I could do about getting her to move them somewhere else, at least while I was living here. I doubted I would make friends close enough to come over to hang outside of class, but I didn't want to take the chance.  
It was impossible to ignore that my godmother was still grieving over my Mom - who was her best friend. . It was almost suffocating to be in the house with all the tension of these pictures and it made me so uncomfortable that I decided to leave.  
I didn't want to be too early for school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my black and grey jacket and headed out into the constant drizzle.  
Inside the car, it was nice and dry; Lucy had cleaned it up. The seats smelled like peppermint. It was a strangely comforting smell, even if it did remind me of candy canes. The engine started quickly, to my relief, had a quiet humming sound. Well, a car this new was bound to have a nice sound. The radio worked geat, a plus that I hadn't expected.  
Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I had never been there. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it so, made it evident. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon coloured bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs that off the high way I couldn't see its size.  
I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading FRONT OFFICE. No one else was parked in this area, so I was sure that it wasn't for students, but I decided that I would get directions inside instead of circling around like an idiot – my new car would get me enough attention as it is.  
stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door, taking bets with myself over what I was going to see. What I saw – and let me win a bet with one side of my brain verses the other – was brightly lit and warm. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, like there wasn't enough of it lining the exterior of the school itself. The room as cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly coloured flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed – something that oddly didn't comfort or discomfort me.  
She looked up at me with confused eyes. "Can I help you?"  
"I'm Promise Lovell, " I explained and saw the immediate recognition in her eyes. I was expected, probably a gossip target. Daughter of the Chief's dead best friend, moves into town. I set my chin, trying to make it look a little strong.  
"Of course, " she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pike of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.  
She went through each of my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map. She gave me a slip for each teacher that I had to have them sign and bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Lucy, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.  
When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I could feel people staring at my mustang, unlike most of these; nothing flashy. At home it had been a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was either a shiny, silver Volvo. It was an S60R, probably a 2003. Or my 2003 Ford mustang. I was so embarassed at the people staring.  
I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now so that I wouldn't have my nose stuffed in papers as I walked around. I pushed everything into my sling black bag, and took a deep breath.  
You can do this, I assured half heartedly.  
I kept my face pulled back in my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My jacket did end up standing out, but it's not like I wasn't expecting stares. I was relieved I had thought to wear a sweater with hood.  
When I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. There was a large three painted in white on the side. I felt my breathing gradually creep toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two people through the door. I was greeted with a small classroom; the people in front of me were hanging their coats up on a row of hooks that I hadn't seen since I could remember. I copied them, glad that my clothes were strangely colourless today.  
I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name – not an encouraging response – and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me way in the back, but somehow they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Brontë, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner...I'd read that all two years back. I wonder if my dad would send me my folder of old essays, or if he would consider that cheating. Most likely he would consider it cheating.  
When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, an awkward and gangly Asian boy–there hadn't been many at my old school–leaned across the aisle to talk to me.  
"You're Promise Lovell, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.  
"Yeah I am, " I said. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me. I tried not to glare at them for their intrusion but realized they probably couldn't help it. I must be the first fresh meat in decades.

"Where's your next class?"

I had to check my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building...six." I couldn't look anywhere without catching someone's eyes so I looked down at my paper, trying to memorize the rest of my classes so that I wouldn't have to do this ever again.

"I'm headed for building four, I could show you the way..." Definitely the over-helpful type. "I'm Eric, " he added.

"Thanks." I smiled wryly. We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking so close just so they could eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't being paranoid, but by the way people kept stepping on my heels, it was making it hard to shoot down the thought.  
"So, this is a lot different than Jeneau, huh?" he asked. Something told me that would be the start of all conversations.  
"Not really. I mean it rains and snows there alot." It made him smile and somewhat relax, which made me feel better about it.  
"Well, good, " he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful. I smiled at him with a nod, hoping I wasn't leading him on or anything, but a friend would be nice.  
The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trig teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of what he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class to introduce myself. I rambled, blushed, tripped on my way up  
After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic but mostly I just ended up avoiding the subjects. It wasn't that I didn't like Forks – I just didn't like change. They seemed to accept the avoidance and walk me to classes so I never had to memorize my map.  
One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the caf for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than me at five foot six, but her wildly, curly hair made up a lot of the difference. I couldn't remember her name so I was the one who just smiled and nodded, only answering the questions directed towards my French, which I answered in French, so that she couldn't understand me and I could avoid using her name anyway. After that she ended up prattling on about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up. She was more of an annoyance than a friend.  
We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, each who was introduced to me like a kindergartener. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them, just because I was so annoyed with her tone. They seemed impressed by her bravery to speak to me – which made me suspicious that her motives hadn't been all that chivalrous. The boy from English – Eric? – waved at me from across the room.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.  
They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. None of them were talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. Maybe I couldn't stop staring at them because they seemed to be the only students that weren't gawking at me. It was good because I was free to stare at them without meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was one of them which caught, and held, my attention.  
They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big – muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blonde. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-coloured hair. He was more boyish than the others who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. The long, golden-haired one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure – the kind you saw on Sports Illustrated bikini covers, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self esteem just by being in the same room – I was feeling it now. I knew I was thin, but it wasn't a nice thin like her. I knew I was a bit busty and well curved, but I was flabby in comparison to her. It really did start to hurt the more I looked at her. So I looked over to the other girl who was pixie like, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.  
While these differences separated the group of them, they were all somehow alike. Everyone one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. They all had dark eyes despite their range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those dark eyes – purplish, bruise like shadows that somehow didn't take away from their beauty. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, and angular.

But again, this was not why I couldn't look away.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful – maybe the blond girl or the bronze haired boy?

They were all looking away – thank God, or they would have seen me ogling – from each other and students. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray – unopened soda, unbitten apple – and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed by her lithe dancer's step – I hadn't even seen things like that in my school. Nothing that flawlessly natural. She dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have though possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who didn't budge.  
"Who are they?" I asked the annoying girl from my Spanish class.

As she looked up to see who I meant – though already knowing, probably, from my tone – suddenly he looked at her, the thinner, boyish one. Maybe he was the youngest. He looked at my neighbour for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered over to mine.  
She giggled in embarrassment, looking down and away from them like I had. "That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen, they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.

The beautiful boy – by far the most attractive of the males – was now picking a bagel to pieces with his long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three weren't looking at him but somehow, I could just tell he was talking to them, though I had no idea what he could be saying that they would be able to comprehend at that speed.  
" Why did you say there names like that?" I asked her, as I bit into my apple. It was like she was telling a dirty secret or something.  
She shrugged. "They are all together though – Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together." Her voice held the judgement that only a small town girl could have, I thought critically. But I could understand why it would have caused gossip.  
Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related..."

"Oh, they're not." She clarified. "Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties or something. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins – the blondes – and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's sweet," according to the look she gave me, I had just sprouted several more heads. "I mean, it's sweet for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so, " Jessica agreed reluctantly and I could tell that she was still holding on to her critical views of what she thought a family should be. Like I said she sounded mean.  
"I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have kids, though, " she added as if that made it all make sense. I turned towards her with a blank face, hiding my disgust. Something told me that this Jessica girl and I would be butting heads often.

"That makes it all the more compassionate." I said in a monotone, trying not to show my frustration.

"Yeah, more like desperate."

More like kinder than you've ever seen in your narrow minded little world, I wanted to his back. But Aurora had told me to play nice and not talk back yet. I would hold my promise, since that was my name.

"Compassion can bring on things that people without it will never understand." I bit back. It was still a downright insult, but I had hoped that she would see past it by asking a sooner question. "Have they always lived in Forks?" I tried to remember through my memories if I had ever seen walking angels in this town – sadly, I had none that I could remember.  
No, " She said bluntly. I wondered if she thought I was stupid or even asking. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska, just like you."My eyes widened in disbelief. They were from that same place I came from! I never heard of them or anything. Weird.  
"What?!" I whispered. " Strange."  
As I watched them, more creepily than inconspicuously, the youngest one of the Cullen's turned and met my stare. This time his expression was dripping with curiosity, which made my blush and quickly look away. I didn't like that flicker of unmet expectation from him. Like that blonde one hadn't knocked my insecurities enough...

"Which is the one with the reddish brown hair?" I asked, rubbing my neck with the sole intention of throwing my hair over my face. I peeked through the curtain I'd created and saw him still staring, but not gawking like the other students had today – he still wore that same odd expression that again made me look down in some unrecognizable form of shame.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed – ah. It was pretty clear what that meant and I briefly wondered how long ago it had been that he had rejected her.  
I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling at the thought. Glancing at him again, basic instinct it felt like, I saw that his lips were tight, too. Almost like he was holding back a smile, himself. After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. Each was shockingly graceful in an unnerving way. The one named Edward didn't look my way again.  
I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends a little longer than I would have normally, but my first day jitters got the best of me and I was completely paranoid of being late for my first day of class. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela – I liked her already – had Biology II with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence, which was nice. She realized that even though I wasn't as shy as her, I was still awkward.  
I walked to introduce myself to the teacher, named Mr. Banner, who was an energetic, middle-aged man that wasted no nonsense on introductions. As I reached towards him to exchange the slip that needed to be signed for the textbook he had assigned me, I saw Edward go rigid in my peripheral vision. It drew my eyes to him, now he was staring again. The look on his face was so shocking that as I walked towards him, I suddenly couldn't move anymore. There was so much hostility, so much hate. It made my blood run cold.

I almost fell into my seat, thanks to the girl who left her books right in the aisle. She giggled and I glared at her, raising my eyebrows in challenge. She stopped immediately and turned back to face Mr. Banner. I smiled towards Edward, hoping the scene had lightened his spirits, but was shocked to see that he was just ass furious as he had been. But I couldn't look away – his eyes were coal black. Like a starless night or a bottomless ocean.

I swallowed and hid behind my curtain of hair once more. I heard his posture change and with a glance through my hair, I could see that his posture had changed. He was now leaning as far from me as possible, his hand balled into fists, face towards the windows and were his – yes, his eyes were squeezed shut.

Inconspicuously I smelled myself. My hair smelled like vanilla and I could still smell the lingering scent of my spiced vanilla body wash and spring fresh antiperspirant. I had a strange obsession with how I smelt and my favourite smell was vanilla, so I always tended to pulsate it.

Unfortunately, the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I had never studied. I delved into my notes, making them far more detailed than I normally would have – any other time I would have referenced my textbook later – but I couldn't bring myself to look past my curtain of hair to the boy I could still feel glaring at me. And yeah, I didn't think it was actually possible outside of a book to think you can feel someone's eyes on you, but there was so much hate behind it, how could I not?

The one time I did dare to peek at him, I took in everything as quickly as possible and was horrified by the result. He had not taken his eyes off me, he had not relaxed, and his hands were clenched into tendoned fists that were so vicious I couldn't understand how I had ever thought him slight, even beside his burly brother.

Needless to say, this class lasted for far too long. I was antsy the entire time and I couldn't stop squirming under his scrutiny – it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life and yet nothing was actually happening. He was silent, he was deadly, and he was completely removed from the environment. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behaviour? If looks could kill, I would be sixty feet under, right now. Maybe Jessica wasn't as resentful as I thought and the boy really did have issues that needed to be dealt with – by a professional, it seemed. I mean, how could this have anything to do with me? I hadn't said a word to him; I hadn't touched him or had the time to offend him – even though I never would have. Would have, anyway. Maybe now I wouldn't be so courteous.

When the bell rang, I jumped. Mostly because Edward, even in his stupor, had somehow anticipated the ring and was out of his seat and walking past me as it wailed. He was taller than I thought as he passed people before they could stand, and he was out the door before anyone else could give a second glance.

I sat planted in my seat, completely terrified. He was cruel. It wasn't fair. I began gathering my things in a daze, thinking about how much of a dick that guy must be to d this to me on my first day – to ruin my day, month, year, and each day until graduation – just because he could. There was a moment where I tried to pretend like this wouldn't affect me for that long, but I was usually honest with myself and I knew that, for some strange reason, it invariably will.  
Aren't you Promise Lovell?" a male voice asked. The owner of that voice was a cute, baby-faced boy, with pale blonde hair that was carefully gelled into orderly spikes. He smiled more friendly than I could have thought possible after the hour of disgust I'd sat beside. He must have smelled the vanilla.  
" Yes". I said.  
Do you need help finding your next class?" He smiled almost too much, but now I couldn't be sure if I was so desensitised from Edward's anger or if it really was excessive. I shook my head.

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I'll manage."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled with this; though the school was so small I was sure I'd had classes with two or three other people in each so far. Nevertheless, we walked to class together; he was a chatterer – he supplied most of the conversation on his own, which made things easy for me since I was still so zoned out. He apparently was a little bit of a newbie, himself – living in California until he was ten, so he didn't know how to live in cold weather for a long time. He was also in my English class – called it.

"So did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what?" He asked as we walked into the gym. "I've never seen him act like that." I winced. So this wasn't his normal behaviour. Lucky me was a special case of...whatever the hell that was.

"You mean the dick from Biology?" I muttered darkly. He laughed almost too loud.

"Yes, " he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."

"I never spoke to him." I sighed. "Apparently he can feel my poverty through his Prada shirt."

"He's a weird guy." He chuckled. Instead of heading to the dressing room, he lingered and watched me with amusement in his crazily-blue eyes. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

Almost immediately, I decided it was time to change. He was friendly and admiring, but I was irritated and not even the most attractive boy – ironically enough, to me that was Edward Cullen – wouldn't have stood a chance.

The Gym Teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress for today. At home, you only needed two years of Gym was but here it was a four year requirement. Another stab at my day. Luckily I watched four volleyball games simultaneously instead of participating, I didn't need to be active today, it seemed. Thank. God.

When the final bell rang, I felt like I could cry from happiness. I walked to the office to return my slips of paper and smiled at the lack of rain...the smile didn't last long as my bones were chilled by the wind. When I walked into the office I was assaulted by an angry, honey tone of someone talking to the receptionist. I closed my eyes and held my breath when I realized it was Edward Cullen.

His tousled bronze hair was what gave him away and he was so busy quietly yelling to her that he hadn't noticed me enter. He was arguing in a low, attractive voice – much lower than I would have expected him to have. The argument was very clear, he was trying to trade form sixth hour Biology.

This couldn't be about me. This had to be about something else that had happened before I had gotten there. Something that happened that had nothing to do with the new girl he hadn't spoken a word to...right? It was impossible that a stranger could take such a sudden, intense hatred towards me.

The door opened again and I gasped from the cold wind that whipped through the room. The girl who came in put a note in the wire basket and walked out again, but Edward Cullens back had stiffened. Somehow – and I had no idea how it could be – he turned around and knew I was there. His face was absurdly handsome – even with his piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then, " he said hastily with a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turned on his heal without another look at me, and disappeared out the door. I took my moment to breathe out his absence before I walked meekly to the desk, face pale to hand her each signature.

"How did your first day go, dear" The receptionist asked maternally.

"Dandy, " I said sarcastically. She gave me a look of sympathy right after the one of shock – she must have thought I would have lied. Well, she clearly didn't know me at all.  
When I got to my car, I was glad that I was one of the last cars in the lot. It seemed like a safe-haven, closer to home than anywhere else I had been since I had gotten off the plane. I sat for a while, wondering what I could do to get my mind out of this rut of...what? Fear? Self-consciousness? I thought of my promise to Aurora and decided to just ignore; stupid Edward Cullen.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Please review and I hope you like it!:)

Chapter Two – Open Book

The next day was better...and worse.

It was better because it hadn't rained yet, though it was pretty clear from the humidity that it was inevitable. On top of that, I now knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit beside me in English and made sure to strut me to my next class, with Eric – chess club boy – glaring the entire way, which was flattering, but it also made me uncomfortable. I usually wasn't the one to get this kind of attention.

Presumably from this very awkwardness, people didn't look at me quite as much as yesterday. Which was great. I even sat with a big group a lunch that had mutated to include Mike, Eric, Jessica, Angela, and other people with faces I could remember and names that were always on the tip of my tongue. Even if I still wasn't moving, I felt like I was floating on the water instead of drowning just below the surface.

It was worse because I still couldn't sleep. Last night I had been up all night contemplating mean, harsh, and cruel things to say to Edward Cullen if his behaviour continued. Things that would make him get told about his mannsrs – something he wouldn't understand – just to make him feel stupid and look it up later. I'd come up short...and an exhausted brain had no chance of helping.

It was also worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised, and math being my worst subject, I got the answer entirely wrong. I also had to play volleyball and I spiked it into Coach Clapp's face. Oh, and to top it all off: Edward Cullen was nowhere to be seen.

All morning I had been dreading lunch, fearing whatever his mood would be that hour. I then started to fear that I should have stayed up later and thought of better come-backs. Part of me really did wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was – but I was as happy as the Cowardly Lion when he hadn't been there. I could have cheered when Angela and I walked into the cafeteria to see all four of his siblings there and no sign of him.

And then, as Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table, I started to grow more weary. Why wasn't he in school? He hadn't dropped out or anything just because he couldn't ditch Biology II...right? But then I realized, there were tons of reasons to miss a lunch. He could be in the library, he could have gone home, he could still be in the lunch line, he could have gotten sick.

After separating myself from Jessica's shameless trials at flirting with Mike, I had grabbed Angela and walked with more confidence into the class, praying that his absence at lunch meant also meant his absence from class. Mike walked faithfully behind us, cracking jokes as I held my breath going through the classroom door...

But Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and spread myself possessively over my seat and his own side of the table – mine. Mike followed and prattled on about an upcoming trip to the beach, but I could barely listen; I was far too relieved. When the bell rang, he smiled ruefully and went to his place beside a girl with a bad perm and braces. I sighed, hoping I wouldn't have to acknowledge Mike's growing interest in me. I really wasn't good with that kind of confrontation...and when I did happen to be good with those kind of talks, it was always at the other per But Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and spread myself possessively over my seat and his own side of the table – mine. Mike followed and prattled on about an upcoming trip to the beach, but I could barely listen; I was far too content. When the bell rang, he smiled ruefully and went to his place beside a girl with a bad perm and braces. I sighed, hoping I wouldn't have to acknowledge Mike's growing interest in me. I really wasn't good with that kind of confrontation. I'm not a mean person but I could be when I am pushed.

Spreading my things out was at the expense of possibly chasing my lab partner away. Why, I still had no idea, but I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn't here. It was ridiculous, and arrogant, to think that I could affect someone so much. And yet, I couldn't stop worrying it was true. I mean, was I really that influential? Surely not to someone like him.

When the school day was finally done and I had stopped stuttering out my excessive apologies to Coach Clapp, I changed quickly back into acid wash jeans and a baby blue sweater. I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever/ friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot that was starting to overflow, each second getting more condensed with fleeing students. I got in my car and dug through my bag to make sure I had everything that I needed.

Last night I'd discovered that Lucy still hadn't taught herself how to cook anything besides some bacon and the occasional fried egg. I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. She was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall when I also discovered that there was no food in the house. I had my shopping list and the money from the jar labelled FOOD MONEY, so with that mental checklist running through my mind, I set out to the Thrift way.

I cranked up my new car to life, ignoring the heads that turned towards me. I backed carefully into a place in the line of cars escaping the parking lot and winced. I tried to pretend that I wasn't watching the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their shiny Volvo. I quickly took a look at their clothes, brought on by the fact the little one, Alice, was wearing some form of expensive sequin that sparkled and caught my eye. I had never noticed how they dressed exceptionally well; simply, but with subtle hint of designer origins; which was funny, considering I did the exact opposite. It was with their remarkable good looks and the style with which they carried themselves that would have allowed them to wear dishrags and pull it off on a runway. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them any acceptance here.

But I reminded myself of how everyone had told me that this segregation was their choice. And for once, I had decided to believe the rumours; simply because I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty. I ignored their eyes as they watched my car pass them and swore that I would never diss grocery shopping again, now that it had saved me from that tension.

When I got home from my forty minute shopping trip, I unloaded all the groceries and stuffed them wherever I deemed appropriate. I hoped Luce wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in a spicy marinade – too late to ask myself whether or not Lucy even liked spice – and let it soak in the fridge as I finished my sloppy organization.

When I was done that, I took my bag upstairs. I quickly decided I wasn't in the mood for my homework, so I changed into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and checked my emails from my laptop for the first time in the three days I'd been here. I had six messages.

"Promise," my father wrote. "Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you, I'm so sorry you decided to live with your godmother. I hope you don't have some silly idea that it's permanent. Aurora is looking for her paintbrushes, have you seen it? We miss you. Dad."

I sighed and went to the next, sent eight hours after the first.

"Promise," my Mom rote. "Why haven't you emailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Dad."

Then one from Aurora, reading simply:

"Where did you put my paint brushes? I know you use them because I use them, but you better not have taken it with you! A. xox"

I smiled, wondering how she could still blame me for idolizing her so much that I would steal her things now that I was in a completely different state. Something told me that this would continue every time she would lose something. Oh well.

Aurora," I began simply. "I know you'll end up blaming me for a lot of it, but for the record I haven't taken any of your things...except your red ribbon." .Anyway, I hope you're taking care of Dad. Keep me posted on how everything is going on, alright. I love you. I miss you. Write back soon!"

I moved next to my father, which I wrote quickly.

Dad," I began. "Everything is great. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something exciting to write about, alas it is never that simple. School isn't bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit with me at lunch.

"Aurora should finder her paint brushes under her bed , so don't worry about it.

"Lucy bought me a brand new car! Can you believe it? Tell Rora that it's a 2003 Grey Ford Mustang. I know, the colour is too common in my things anyway."

"I miss you both. I'll write again soon, but I'm not getting on this laptop every day to check my email. Miss you. Love you.

"Promise."

When I was done with my messages, I took out my favourite novel. It was not something I had to read for this English class, though I would have had to read it for my English class back in Juneau. I had discovered it years before it could be polluted by the forcible time commitment from the educational prison. They probably weren't into the whole idea of 'other cultures and religious views' in this area, so I'd have to keep this on the down-low. It was my favourite book, Paradise Lost, about the fall of the Morningstar. It was basically a giant poem.

It was all I did instead of being at home doing homework, and that was exactly what I was doing when Lucy came home. I panicked and made sure that the food wasn't burnt – nearly so, it would be a little dry – when shw walked through the door.

" Promise?" My godmother called out when she heard me dash down the stairs.

"Hey, Luce, welcome back."

Thanks." She hung up her gun belt and stepped out of her boots as I bustled about the kitchen, sorting out the food. As far as I was aware, she had never shot his gun on the job. But she always kept it ready like any good cop should – or that was what she thought. When I came here as a child, she would always remove the bullets as soon as she walked through the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident. And I guess she didn't think I was depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose. That or she was now to lazy to care at all.

"What's for dinner?" she asked warily. My mother was an imaginative cook, her experiments weren't always pleasant. I was surprised, and sad, she seemed to remember that far back.

"Steak and potatoes," I answered and added, "a real 'womens' meal," when she looked relieved. Since she was awkwardly standing in the kitchen, unsure of what to do I let her go watch TV while I finished up. We were both too uncomfortable for her to help me out. I made salad while everything was finishing and set the table.

"Smells good, Proms." She smiled after I had called her in. I tried not to blush.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable until we both started to search for things to say. Neither of us were bothered by the quiet, it was just that we knew so soon into my move we should have started to make a connection.

"So, how do you like school? Have you made any friends?" she asked as she was taking seconds.

"Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Amgela. I sit with her friends at lunch. There's this boy Mike, who's very..." I searched for the right word. "...Friendly. Everyone – almost everyone – seems pretty nice."

"You must mean that Mike Newton. Nice kid –" he went on, completely ignoring my little hint towards Edward Cullen. "His Dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off of all the backpackers who come through here."

"Cool. So..." I began slowly, watching him carefully. "Do you know the Cullen family?"

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man."

"They...the kids...are a little, different, wouldn't you say? They don't seem to fit in very much-"

"People in this town," Lucy muttered, almost angrily. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here," he continued getting a little louder. "We're lucky to have him – lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community and all of those kids are well behaved and polite." I inhaled slowly as not to interrupt her thought. "I had my doubts, when they first arrived in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have same problems with them. But they're all very mature – I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for some of the folks who have lived here for generations. And they stick together the way a family should – camping trips every other weekend...just because they're newcomers people have to talk."

It was the longest I've ever heard Lucy talk for, nevertheless she made an entire speech out of it. She must feel very strongly about what she was saying and there were a few moments where I must have looked very surprised. I call it my wide eyed face.

"They seem nice to me." I lied, I wonder if she noticed it. I'm a very good liar. "I just noticed that they kept to themselves. They're kind ridiculous looking...pretty, I mean," I added, trying to be more complimentary.

"You should see the doctor," Lucy laughed. "It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around."

We lapsed back into a silence that I don't think either of us wanted to break. We had made our peace, had actually spoken at the dinner table: this whole kinda mother- daughter relationship had to be taken in baby steps. She cleared the table, I started the dishes; she went back to the TV, I went up to do homework. I felt tradition in the making.

That night it was quiet, which made me lay awake and think. Never a good thing. Think about the missing boy and what I was going to do tomorrow when he showed up to school – if he showed up to school. I tried to toughen my skin just by sheer willpower...but I knew it wasn't so simple. I put my iPod on – music, tonight, I was in the mood to be uplifted when I woke – and drifted to sleep a half hour later.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school – which was morbidly depressing in a way no one would understand until they realize how small the world is. Gym, the kids on my team learned that I was a pretty good player.

Edward Cullen didn't even come back to school. Each day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullen's entered the cafeteria without him. Then I could take a breath and join in on the lunchtime chatter. Most of it centered around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together. I was invited and had agreed to go, but this was mostly because I wanted to see the ocean. I think it is pretty cool; that La Push Beach wasn't dry and hot beach.

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Edward would be there. For all I knew, and hoped, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I really was responsible for this ridiculous off-time of his, selfish as it seemed.

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Lucy, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I cleaned the entire house top to bottom, got ahead on my homework, and wrote more emails to my family back in Alaska.

I did go to the library with very low expectations on Saturday, but it was stocked so poorly that my low expectations didn't even ready me for the disappointment of leaving without a card; I'd have to visit Olympia or Seattle soon to find a good book store. I wondered idly how far my car could go on gas; pretty far I'm sure – but decided that the bookstore could wait.

People greeted me in the parking lot on Monday morning and though I knew all their names, I could only wave at them because so many were saying hi. It was like I was an overnight sensation and everyone wanted to see a glimpse of the infamous Promise: the biggest klutz in town. It was colder this morning, luckily not raining, but I still had my sweatshirt on without the intention of it coming off.

In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights, which I know I didn't ace, but I hadn't done poorly at all. It made me wonder if I should re-read the booklist: just in case. But all in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks and nose, making them stuff up dramatically.

"Wow," Mike marvelled. "It's snowing."  
I looked at the cotton fluffs that were building up on the sidewalk, watched them fly mischievously past my face and smiled.

"Cool." Snow. I loved it! Back in Alaska; Aurora and I played in it all the time.

Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both turned to see where it had come from. I had my money set on Eric who was walking away with his back towards us – in the wrong direction of his next class and much faster than normal. Mike apparently had the same idea which is why he bent over and began to scrape together a pile of mush.

I'll see you at lunch." I said dismissively.

Throughout the morning, everyone was chattering on about the snow. Apparently it was the first snowfall of the New Year – which I didn't know. When Jessica and I walked to the cafeteria after Spanish, I was on high alert. I kept my binder in my hands to use as a shield, even though I knew it would make no difference – my reflexes were not close to fast enough to pull of that kind of move. Jessica thought it was hilarious, but something in my eye made it clear that if she tried to turn mutinous, I would have her head on the chopping block.

Mike caught up with us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about organizing a snow fight. I glanced toward the table in the corner out of habit and froze where I stood.  
"Hello? Promise? What do you want?" Jessica pulled on my arm to get my attention and I looked to my food, my face burning hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I had not done anything wrong.

"What's with Proms?" Mike whispered to Jessica.

"Nothing." I answered automatically, straightening myself out. "I'm just getting a soda today."

"Aren't you hungry?" Jessica asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick." I said, my eyes still on the floor. I waited for them to get their food and followed them to the table, my eyes on my feet. It at least made it so that I didn't trip over anything.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach was churning. Twice Mike showed his ridiculous amount of concern for my well being and I kept saying that I was fine. Briefly I wondered if I should play it up to escape to the nurses office for the next hour.

There was something different about them that I couldn't quite place – something that I seemed to see most in Edward. His skin was less pale, I decided. Probably flushed from how cold he was thanks to Emmett's wet hair. The circles under his eyes were less noticeable, true. But there was also something more – something that I couldn't quite tell from this far away...

"What are you staring at, Promise?" Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare. At that moment, his eyes flashed up to meet mine.

I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to hide my face, which I'm sure was starting to go beat red. I was sure that the instant that our eyes met there would have been some form of harsh or unfriendly glare, maybe even more disgust and hostility...but I hadn't detected any. Instead, he looked curious again and somehow grievously unsatisfied.

Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica said in shock, looking from him to me. I inhaled sharply.

"He doesn't look angry, does he?" I whispered, hoping he couldn't read lips.

"No," she said, continued to be confused. "Should he be?"

"Oh, he just hates my guts for no apparent reason," I mumbled. "No big deal." I still felt queasy and I put my head down on my arms.

"The Cullens don't like anybody...well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them." She stated as if it were nothing new. Which, knowing them – or not knowing them – was true. "But he's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at him, then!" I hissed at her.

She snickered, but looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that she stayed looking away from them, contemplating on slapping her or not.

Mike interrupted us then – he as planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. The way Jessica looked at him let me know that she had been lost to his charm and would do it, whether I had or not. I kept quiet. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour, I tried to play it cool but made very sure that I could not see the other table. I decided – I would go to Biology, but it was only because he hadn't looked angry. My stomach did traitorous flip-flops at the thought of sitting beside him for a whole hour again.

I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike, because he was annoying me again. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I could safely get home after gym without any injuries that weren't inflicted by my own clumsiness.

Once inside the classroom, with Mike hushing his complaints, I saw with relief that my table was empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing a microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, drawing a flower in my notebook. I had just finished drawing the beginning petals when I heard the chair next to move move, but my eyes stayed carefully close to my designs that I hadn't been about to draw, but were suddenly very essential...

Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, too stunned to listen to my instinct and pretend like I hadn't heard him. He was speaking to me now? He was still sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was actually angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, dishevelled – even so, he looked like he had just finished shooting a hair gel commercial. His dazzling face was even somewhat friendly, if guarded. But there was a small smile playing on his lips that quickened my pulse.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Promise Lovell."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up his hostility? He was being perfectly kind to me now, if almost too courteous. I tried to remind my brain how to speak since he was waiting, but I couldn't think of anything conventional to say.

"You know my name?" He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.

"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive." I grimaced, I had hoped that it wouldn't be something like that. Just remembering what the town thought bout my sudden appearance. I'd heard one of Jessica's little friends – Lauren? – wonder if I was here to seek revenge on my mother's death.

I wasn't sure if I was happy or if I was upset about it. I was somewhat glad that Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes he would come around to see who had it right. I sighed, hoping that Edward Cullen didn't know what to do either, I'd rather get a fail than look like an idiot because I didn't know what was going on.

I had never learned the stages of mitosis and though I had read the textbook, the pictures didn't actually resemble anything like an onion root, and I was sure that I wouldn't be any help at all.

"Ladies first, partner?" Edward asked. I almost groaned aloud, so today was the day he decided to be a gentleman? He was smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I warred whether or not I should say no.

"Or I could start, if you wish." The smile faded; he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent, and something in me worried that he made it so I wasn't.

"No," I said, flushing. "I'll try. But I'm sorry ahead of time."

I snapped the first slide into place and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.

"...Maybe Metophase? No. No, Prophase...I think." Well, I really did sound stupid now.

"Do you mind if I look?" He asked as politely as if I had told him the proper answer, without sounding like an idiot. I passed him the microscope and his hand had caught mine, to stop me, as he asked. His fingers were ice-cold, like he'd been holding them in the snowdrift beore class. But that wasn't why I had jerked my hand away so quickly – when he touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us. It was much stronger than static electricity and yet it was contained only to where his skin touched mine...

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling back his hand at once. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him, still staggered, as he examined the slide for under three seconds.

"You were right, it is prophase." He smiled, writing it neatly n the first space of our worksheet. He swiftly switched slides and glanced at it curiously.

"Anaphase," he murmered almost immediately. I was intimidated by his fancy script and wondered if he had been like me and taken calligraphy classes. His just seemed more natural, I had to actually try to make my writing so neat, otherwise it looked like any other student who was scrambling to get her notes done in time. I would have grabbed the sheet from him were it not for his blatant fear of touching my skin and feeling that shock again. Instead, I decided to try and at least get something educational from it.

"May I?" I asked, trying to sound indifferent, though I wanted to see what it even looked like. Try to somehow relate it to the pictures in the textbook, at least. He smirked and handed me the microscope. I looked through the microscope and examined...if I looked and thought really hard, I could see the similarities to the picture, I guess.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand, without looking at him. He handed it to me, possibly catching on to my test to see if he would touch me. He did not. The look I gave this slide was long, I just wanted to get it right, even if it took me forever to do it.

"Interphase." I said confidently. I was sure I had this one – even if it took forever. He smiled and I handed him the microscope. He took a swift peek and wrote the answer I had said down – I was proud. I had actually learned something in class today, instead of just been paralyzed with fear!

We were finished before anyone else. The other tables seemed to be on their second and third slides and I was pretty proud that I had done at least some of the work. It was clear that Edward Cullen was one of those really smart guys, which was both great and terrible that I was forced to sit beside him. It would make me feel less adequate and make him feel more entitled to go back to glaring at me.

I looked at him briefly, after finishing my drawing of my dragon – now a complete creature with scales and bright vibrant eyes. He was already staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. Suddenly, I indentified the subtle difference I couldn't comprehend at lunch.

"Do you wear contacts?" I blurted out. I had neer been proud of my word vomit.

"No." He answered, seemingly perplexed.

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes." He shrugged and looked away. I was again impressed by my ability to end conversations so suddenly. But I knew there was something he was telling me, because there was something different about his eyes. I distinctly remembered them being as black as coal – no separation between his pupil and his iris. The colour had been terrifying against his pale skin, making him look more like a monster than an angry high school student. But it was today that I noticed his eyes were a completely different colour: an ocher, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tint.

I looked down guiltily, only to notice that his hands were balled into fists again. I turned in my chair back to my drawings – another day ruined.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working or looking at each other. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Edward, didn't you think Promise should get a chance with the microscope?" He asked, somewhat moodily.

"Proms," Edward corrected automatically, much in the same way I corrected others. My face flushed. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at me now, remembering how I had told him I had not yet studied cellular division.

"And you haven't done this lab before?"

"No, I just memorized the pictures." I mumbled.

"But it isn't so easy to put that into practice." He argued sceptically. I shrugged.

"I know. And it didn't take me five seconds to identify each slide," I glared at Edward, who smirked. "So I'd have to say that it was honest beginners luck." Mr. Banner nodded in suspicion before muttering to himself about the two of us being partners.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asked. I assumed that he was forcing this conversation so that he could discover something about me, so I put my pencil down in a very defiant way – a way that told him I was ready for anything he threw at me – as I thought of my answer.

"Yes and No." No point in tryig to lie to the guy, I didn't want to sound like everyone else who would have continued that particular conversation no matter their answer. His eyes narrowed in thought.

"How is it both." It was not a question.

I sighed." Yes, because back in Alaska I loved when it snowed. " No, because the snow here is dirty and muddy. But back in Alaska it's pretty and white."

"Forks must be a nice change from Alaska, then." I was startled at the fact he knew I was from Juneau, but decided not to ask any more stupid questions.  
" If you say so." I muttered darkly.

"Why did you come here, then?" No one had asked me that – not straight out like he did. I stiffened, actually shivering which he seemed to notice. "You don't have to answer." But he did want me to. I shrugged my shoulders.

"No, it's just-" I ran my hand through my hair. "It's really, confusing and complicated."

"I think I can keep up." There was some joke I didn't understand, or I thought there must have been by the smirk on his face. I paused, wondering how much I could tell him – realizing I probably shouldn't tell him anything. Not after the last time we had been beside each other. But then I made the mistake of looking into his eyes, almost like the honey of his voice. They confused me in their complexity and their beauty and I answered without thinking.

"I couldn't live with my father, anymore."

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, but he was quickly very sympathetic. "When did you decide that?"

" After my mother's death, my father just shut down. I couldn't stand to look at him anymore. I just hate that I had; to leave my little sister behind."

"And you don't like your godmother," he surmised, his tone still kind. I shook my head.

"Oh no, Lucy's 's great. She taught me all about cars, taught me all the things she was supposed to teach. It's just..after my Mom... my dad" He looked at me with eyes that made me want to tell my story, but I blushed and averted my gaze. I didn't want him to think I was a terrible person. "I think you might dislike me even more if I told you."

"Who said I dislike you?" I snorted.

"Okay..." I thought about how nice Mrs. Cullen had been said to be, thought about how he would never understand. I wondered if he really would think less of me? "I moved away because I had to get away from the memories of my mom and because I knew my dad and I would began to fight."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...we were starting to resent each other. I pulled away so that we could eventually stay together." I blushed. "In hindsight it will probably be stupid, but you can't really understand unless you-"

"No, I understand." He said quietly. I breathed deeply, taking a look at him. "So you miss your little sister more than anything?"

" Yes but I had to get out of Alaska for a while."

"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intensely gauging my reactions. I laughed without humour as I began running my fingers over all the designs on my binder.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way.

His gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," he said slowly. "But I'm willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I scolded, and looked away from him. "Am I wrong?" he asked. I tried to ignore him. "I didn't think so." He murmured smugly.

"What does it matter to you?" I asked in irritation. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher making his rounds.

After a few seconds of silence, however, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get. I sighed and went back to scowling at the blackboard.

"Am I annoying you?" he asked. He almost sounded amused. I rounded on him, glancing at him so I could speak – again without thinking. It was a nasty habit with him, it seemed.

"Yes. My godmother says I'm difficult to read, but you seem to read me easily." I frowned.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded like he actually meant it. I smirked at him, raising one of my eyebrows.

"You must be good with reading, then," I replied.

"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultra-white teeth. I shivered and felt a strange feeling in my chest, almost like my heart skipped or stuttered. It was strange and it made me glad to listen to Mr. Banner, who was trying to get the classes attention.

I couldn't believe that I had just explained some of the deepest, darkest things in my life to this stranger who, only one week ago, seemed more than happy to hate me. He still may or may not despise me. Then again, he had seemed engrossed in the conversation, but as I watched him from the corner of my eye, I saw that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

I tried to appear attentive to Mr. Banner while being completely attentive towards Edward and his rigid posture. I watched until the bell rang and Edward rushed as swiftly and gracefully from the room as he had the Monday before. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in awe.

"That was awful," Mike groaned, walking over to my desk. "They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen for a partner."

"I did some of it." I said, stung and defensive. He shrugged as we started to walk out of the classroom.

"Cullen seemed friendly enough today," he commented lightly. He didn't seem pleased about this new piece of information. I tried to be indifferent with a shrug.

"Guess he isn't as pissed as he was last Monday."

I could concentrate on Mike's chatter as we walked to Gym, but the class itself didn't hold any of my attention: which was bad. Luckily Mike was on my team today and he chivalrously covered my position and his own. My daze was only ever distracted when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I went up.

The rain was just mist when I walked through the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in my car. It was warmer in here, just because it wasn't so sticky. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the stares, and fluffed my damp hair so that the heater could dry it on the way home.

I looked around me to make sure it was all clear, but that's when I noticed the still, white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against his Volvo, three spaces down from me. He was staring intently in my direction...and I almost let out a strangled giggle of nervousness. It made me slip on the gear and stall the vehicle – and for those who don't understand what that means, it means I jump forward. Since I was reversing, however, I almost jumped back into a rusty Toyota Corolla before I hit the break. It was the first time my reflexes had worked like they were supposed to, and had I not been so shaken up, I would have given myself a pat on the back.

I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from my peripheral vision, I would swear I saw him laughing.

I hope you like it and please review! :)

Disclaimer: Please review and I hope you like it!:)

Chapter Two – Open Book

The next day was better...and worse.

It was better because it hadn't rained yet, though it was pretty clear from the humidity that it was inevitable. On top of that, I now knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit beside me in English and made sure to strut me to my next class, with Eric – chess club boy – glaring the entire way, which was flattering, but it also made me uncomfortable. I usually wasn't the one to get this kind of attention.

Presumably from this very awkwardness, people didn't look at me quite as much as yesterday. Which was great. I even sat with a big group a lunch that had mutated to include Mike, Eric, Jessica, Angela, and other people with faces I could remember and names that were always on the tip of my tongue. Even if I still wasn't moving, I felt like I was floating on the water instead of drowning just below the surface.

It was worse because I still couldn't sleep. Last night I had been up all night contemplating mean, harsh, and cruel things to say to Edward Cullen if his behaviour continued. Things that would make him get told about his mannsrs – something he wouldn't understand – just to make him feel stupid and look it up later. I'd come up short...and an exhausted brain had no chance of helping.

It was also worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised, and math being my worst subject, I got the answer entirely wrong. I also had to play volleyball and I spiked it into Coach Clapp's face. Oh, and to top it all off: Edward Cullen was nowhere to be seen.

All morning I had been dreading lunch, fearing whatever his mood would be that hour. I then started to fear that I should have stayed up later and thought of better come-backs. Part of me really did wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was – but I was as happy as the Cowardly Lion when he hadn't been there. I could have cheered when Angela and I walked into the cafeteria to see all four of his siblings there and no sign of him.

And then, as Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table, I started to grow more weary. Why wasn't he in school? He hadn't dropped out or anything just because he couldn't ditch Biology II...right? But then I realized, there were tons of reasons to miss a lunch. He could be in the library, he could have gone home, he could still be in the lunch line, he could have gotten sick.

After separating myself from Jessica's shameless trials at flirting with Mike, I had grabbed Angela and walked with more confidence into the class, praying that his absence at lunch meant also meant his absence from class. Mike walked faithfully behind us, cracking jokes as I held my breath going through the classroom door...

But Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and spread myself possessively over my seat and his own side of the table – mine. Mike followed and prattled on about an upcoming trip to the beach, but I could barely listen; I was far too relieved. When the bell rang, he smiled ruefully and went to his place beside a girl with a bad perm and braces. I sighed, hoping I wouldn't have to acknowledge Mike's growing interest in me. I really wasn't good with that kind of confrontation...and when I did happen to be good with those kind of talks, it was always at the other per But Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and spread myself possessively over my seat and his own side of the table – mine. Mike followed and prattled on about an upcoming trip to the beach, but I could barely listen; I was far too content. When the bell rang, he smiled ruefully and went to his place beside a girl with a bad perm and braces. I sighed, hoping I wouldn't have to acknowledge Mike's growing interest in me. I really wasn't good with that kind of confrontation. I'm not a mean person but I could be when I am pushed.

Spreading my things out was at the expense of possibly chasing my lab partner away. Why, I still had no idea, but I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn't here. It was ridiculous, and arrogant, to think that I could affect someone so much. And yet, I couldn't stop worrying it was true. I mean, was I really that influential? Surely not to someone like him.

When the school day was finally done and I had stopped stuttering out my excessive apologies to Coach Clapp, I changed quickly back into acid wash jeans and a baby blue sweater. I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever/ friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot that was starting to overflow, each second getting more condensed with fleeing students. I got in my car and dug through my bag to make sure I had everything that I needed.

Last night I'd discovered that Lucy still hadn't taught herself how to cook anything besides some bacon and the occasional fried egg. I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. She was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall when I also discovered that there was no food in the house. I had my shopping list and the money from the jar labelled FOOD MONEY, so with that mental checklist running through my mind, I set out to the Thrift way.

I cranked up my new car to life, ignoring the heads that turned towards me. I backed carefully into a place in the line of cars escaping the parking lot and winced. I tried to pretend that I wasn't watching the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their shiny Volvo. I quickly took a look at their clothes, brought on by the fact the little one, Alice, was wearing some form of expensive sequin that sparkled and caught my eye. I had never noticed how they dressed exceptionally well; simply, but with subtle hint of designer origins; which was funny, considering I did the exact opposite. It was with their remarkable good looks and the style with which they carried themselves that would have allowed them to wear dishrags and pull it off on a runway. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them any acceptance here.

But I reminded myself of how everyone had told me that this segregation was their choice. And for once, I had decided to believe the rumours; simply because I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty. I ignored their eyes as they watched my car pass them and swore that I would never diss grocery shopping again, now that it had saved me from that tension.

When I got home from my forty minute shopping trip, I unloaded all the groceries and stuffed them wherever I deemed appropriate. I hoped Luce wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in a spicy marinade – too late to ask myself whether or not Lucy even liked spice – and let it soak in the fridge as I finished my sloppy organization.

When I was done that, I took my bag upstairs. I quickly decided I wasn't in the mood for my homework, so I changed into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and checked my emails from my laptop for the first time in the three days I'd been here. I had six messages.

"Promise," my father wrote. "Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you, I'm so sorry you decided to live with your godmother. I hope you don't have some silly idea that it's permanent. Aurora is looking for her paintbrushes, have you seen it? We miss you. Dad."

I sighed and went to the next, sent eight hours after the first.

"Promise," my Mom rote. "Why haven't you emailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Dad."

Then one from Aurora, reading simply:

"Where did you put my paint brushes? I know you use them because I use them, but you better not have taken it with you! A. xox"

I smiled, wondering how she could still blame me for idolizing her so much that I would steal her things now that I was in a completely different state. Something told me that this would continue every time she would lose something. Oh well.

Aurora," I began simply. "I know you'll end up blaming me for a lot of it, but for the record I haven't taken any of your things...except your red ribbon." .Anyway, I hope you're taking care of Dad. Keep me posted on how everything is going on, alright. I love you. I miss you. Write back soon!"

I moved next to my father, which I wrote quickly.

Dad," I began. "Everything is great. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something exciting to write about, alas it is never that simple. School isn't bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit with me at lunch.

"Aurora should finder her paint brushes under her bed , so don't worry about it.

"Lucy bought me a brand new car! Can you believe it? Tell Rora that it's a 2003 Grey Ford Mustang. I know, the colour is too common in my things anyway."

"I miss you both. I'll write again soon, but I'm not getting on this laptop every day to check my email. Miss you. Love you.

"Promise."

When I was done with my messages, I took out my favourite novel. It was not something I had to read for this English class, though I would have had to read it for my English class back in Juneau. I had discovered it years before it could be polluted by the forcible time commitment from the educational prison. They probably weren't into the whole idea of 'other cultures and religious views' in this area, so I'd have to keep this on the down-low. It was my favourite book, Paradise Lost, about the fall of the Morningstar. It was basically a giant poem.

It was all I did instead of being at home doing homework, and that was exactly what I was doing when Lucy came home. I panicked and made sure that the food wasn't burnt – nearly so, it would be a little dry – when shw walked through the door.

" Promise?" My godmother called out when she heard me dash down the stairs.

"Hey, Luce, welcome back."

Thanks." She hung up her gun belt and stepped out of her boots as I bustled about the kitchen, sorting out the food. As far as I was aware, she had never shot his gun on the job. But she always kept it ready like any good cop should – or that was what she thought. When I came here as a child, she would always remove the bullets as soon as she walked through the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident. And I guess she didn't think I was depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose. That or she was now to lazy to care at all.

"What's for dinner?" she asked warily. My mother was an imaginative cook, her experiments weren't always pleasant. I was surprised, and sad, she seemed to remember that far back.

"Steak and potatoes," I answered and added, "a real 'womens' meal," when she looked relieved. Since she was awkwardly standing in the kitchen, unsure of what to do I let her go watch TV while I finished up. We were both too uncomfortable for her to help me out. I made salad while everything was finishing and set the table.

"Smells good, Proms." She smiled after I had called her in. I tried not to blush.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable until we both started to search for things to say. Neither of us were bothered by the quiet, it was just that we knew so soon into my move we should have started to make a connection.

"So, how do you like school? Have you made any friends?" she asked as she was taking seconds.

"Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Amgela. I sit with her friends at lunch. There's this boy Mike, who's very..." I searched for the right word. "...Friendly. Everyone – almost everyone – seems pretty nice."

"You must mean that Mike Newton. Nice kid –" he went on, completely ignoring my little hint towards Edward Cullen. "His Dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off of all the backpackers who come through here."

"Cool. So..." I began slowly, watching him carefully. "Do you know the Cullen family?"

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man."

"They...the kids...are a little, different, wouldn't you say? They don't seem to fit in very much-"

"People in this town," Lucy muttered, almost angrily. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here," he continued getting a little louder. "We're lucky to have him – lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community and all of those kids are well behaved and polite." I inhaled slowly as not to interrupt her thought. "I had my doubts, when they first arrived in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have same problems with them. But they're all very mature – I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for some of the folks who have lived here for generations. And they stick together the way a family should – camping trips every other weekend...just because they're newcomers people have to talk."

It was the longest I've ever heard Lucy talk for, nevertheless she made an entire speech out of it. She must feel very strongly about what she was saying and there were a few moments where I must have looked very surprised. I call it my wide eyed face.

"They seem nice to me." I lied, I wonder if she noticed it. I'm a very good liar. "I just noticed that they kept to themselves. They're kind ridiculous looking...pretty, I mean," I added, trying to be more complimentary.

"You should see the doctor," Lucy laughed. "It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around."

We lapsed back into a silence that I don't think either of us wanted to break. We had made our peace, had actually spoken at the dinner table: this whole kinda mother- daughter relationship had to be taken in baby steps. She cleared the table, I started the dishes; she went back to the TV, I went up to do homework. I felt tradition in the making.

That night it was quiet, which made me lay awake and think. Never a good thing. Think about the missing boy and what I was going to do tomorrow when he showed up to school – if he showed up to school. I tried to toughen my skin just by sheer willpower...but I knew it wasn't so simple. I put my iPod on – music, tonight, I was in the mood to be uplifted when I woke – and drifted to sleep a half hour later.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school – which was morbidly depressing in a way no one would understand until they realize how small the world is. Gym, the kids on my team learned that I was a pretty good player.

Edward Cullen didn't even come back to school. Each day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullen's entered the cafeteria without him. Then I could take a breath and join in on the lunchtime chatter. Most of it centered around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together. I was invited and had agreed to go, but this was mostly because I wanted to see the ocean. I think it is pretty cool; that La Push Beach wasn't dry and hot beach.

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Edward would be there. For all I knew, and hoped, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I really was responsible for this ridiculous off-time of his, selfish as it seemed.

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Lucy, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I cleaned the entire house top to bottom, got ahead on my homework, and wrote more emails to my family back in Alaska.

I did go to the library with very low expectations on Saturday, but it was stocked so poorly that my low expectations didn't even ready me for the disappointment of leaving without a card; I'd have to visit Olympia or Seattle soon to find a good book store. I wondered idly how far my car could go on gas; pretty far I'm sure – but decided that the bookstore could wait.

People greeted me in the parking lot on Monday morning and though I knew all their names, I could only wave at them because so many were saying hi. It was like I was an overnight sensation and everyone wanted to see a glimpse of the infamous Promise: the biggest klutz in town. It was colder this morning, luckily not raining, but I still had my sweatshirt on without the intention of it coming off.

In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights, which I know I didn't ace, but I hadn't done poorly at all. It made me wonder if I should re-read the booklist: just in case. But all in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks and nose, making them stuff up dramatically.

"Wow," Mike marvelled. "It's snowing."  
I looked at the cotton fluffs that were building up on the sidewalk, watched them fly mischievously past my face and smiled.

"Cool." Snow. I loved it! Back in Alaska; Aurora and I played in it all the time.

Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both turned to see where it had come from. I had my money set on Eric who was walking away with his back towards us – in the wrong direction of his next class and much faster than normal. Mike apparently had the same idea which is why he bent over and began to scrape together a pile of mush.

I'll see you at lunch." I said dismissively.

Throughout the morning, everyone was chattering on about the snow. Apparently it was the first snowfall of the New Year – which I didn't know. When Jessica and I walked to the cafeteria after Spanish, I was on high alert. I kept my binder in my hands to use as a shield, even though I knew it would make no difference – my reflexes were not close to fast enough to pull of that kind of move. Jessica thought it was hilarious, but something in my eye made it clear that if she tried to turn mutinous, I would have her head on the chopping block.

Mike caught up with us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about organizing a snow fight. I glanced toward the table in the corner out of habit and froze where I stood.  
"Hello? Promise? What do you want?" Jessica pulled on my arm to get my attention and I looked to my food, my face burning hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I had not done anything wrong.

"What's with Proms?" Mike whispered to Jessica.

"Nothing." I answered automatically, straightening myself out. "I'm just getting a soda today."

"Aren't you hungry?" Jessica asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick." I said, my eyes still on the floor. I waited for them to get their food and followed them to the table, my eyes on my feet. It at least made it so that I didn't trip over anything.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach was churning. Twice Mike showed his ridiculous amount of concern for my well being and I kept saying that I was fine. Briefly I wondered if I should play it up to escape to the nurses office for the next hour.

There was something different about them that I couldn't quite place – something that I seemed to see most in Edward. His skin was less pale, I decided. Probably flushed from how cold he was thanks to Emmett's wet hair. The circles under his eyes were less noticeable, true. But there was also something more – something that I couldn't quite tell from this far away...

"What are you staring at, Promise?" Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare. At that moment, his eyes flashed up to meet mine.

I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to hide my face, which I'm sure was starting to go beat red. I was sure that the instant that our eyes met there would have been some form of harsh or unfriendly glare, maybe even more disgust and hostility...but I hadn't detected any. Instead, he looked curious again and somehow grievously unsatisfied.

Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica said in shock, looking from him to me. I inhaled sharply.

"He doesn't look angry, does he?" I whispered, hoping he couldn't read lips.

"No," she said, continued to be confused. "Should he be?"

"Oh, he just hates my guts for no apparent reason," I mumbled. "No big deal." I still felt queasy and I put my head down on my arms.

"The Cullens don't like anybody...well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them." She stated as if it were nothing new. Which, knowing them – or not knowing them – was true. "But he's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at him, then!" I hissed at her.

She snickered, but looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that she stayed looking away from them, contemplating on slapping her or not.

Mike interrupted us then – he as planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. The way Jessica looked at him let me know that she had been lost to his charm and would do it, whether I had or not. I kept quiet. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour, I tried to play it cool but made very sure that I could not see the other table. I decided – I would go to Biology, but it was only because he hadn't looked angry. My stomach did traitorous flip-flops at the thought of sitting beside him for a whole hour again.

I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike, because he was annoying me again. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I could safely get home after gym without any injuries that weren't inflicted by my own clumsiness.

Once inside the classroom, with Mike hushing his complaints, I saw with relief that my table was empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing a microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, drawing a flower in my notebook. I had just finished drawing the beginning petals when I heard the chair next to move move, but my eyes stayed carefully close to my designs that I hadn't been about to draw, but were suddenly very essential...

Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, too stunned to listen to my instinct and pretend like I hadn't heard him. He was speaking to me now? He was still sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was actually angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, dishevelled – even so, he looked like he had just finished shooting a hair gel commercial. His dazzling face was even somewhat friendly, if guarded. But there was a small smile playing on his lips that quickened my pulse.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Promise Lovell."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up his hostility? He was being perfectly kind to me now, if almost too courteous. I tried to remind my brain how to speak since he was waiting, but I couldn't think of anything conventional to say.

"You know my name?" He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.

"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive." I grimaced, I had hoped that it wouldn't be something like that. Just remembering what the town thought bout my sudden appearance. I'd heard one of Jessica's little friends – Lauren? – wonder if I was here to seek revenge on my mother's death.

I wasn't sure if I was happy or if I was upset about it. I was somewhat glad that Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes he would come around to see who had it right. I sighed, hoping that Edward Cullen didn't know what to do either, I'd rather get a fail than look like an idiot because I didn't know what was going on.

I had never learned the stages of mitosis and though I had read the textbook, the pictures didn't actually resemble anything like an onion root, and I was sure that I wouldn't be any help at all.

"Ladies first, partner?" Edward asked. I almost groaned aloud, so today was the day he decided to be a gentleman? He was smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I warred whether or not I should say no.

"Or I could start, if you wish." The smile faded; he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent, and something in me worried that he made it so I wasn't.

"No," I said, flushing. "I'll try. But I'm sorry ahead of time."

I snapped the first slide into place and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.

"...Maybe Metophase? No. No, Prophase...I think." Well, I really did sound stupid now.

"Do you mind if I look?" He asked as politely as if I had told him the proper answer, without sounding like an idiot. I passed him the microscope and his hand had caught mine, to stop me, as he asked. His fingers were ice-cold, like he'd been holding them in the snowdrift beore class. But that wasn't why I had jerked my hand away so quickly – when he touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us. It was much stronger than static electricity and yet it was contained only to where his skin touched mine...

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling back his hand at once. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him, still staggered, as he examined the slide for under three seconds.

"You were right, it is prophase." He smiled, writing it neatly n the first space of our worksheet. He swiftly switched slides and glanced at it curiously.

"Anaphase," he murmered almost immediately. I was intimidated by his fancy script and wondered if he had been like me and taken calligraphy classes. His just seemed more natural, I had to actually try to make my writing so neat, otherwise it looked like any other student who was scrambling to get her notes done in time. I would have grabbed the sheet from him were it not for his blatant fear of touching my skin and feeling that shock again. Instead, I decided to try and at least get something educational from it.

"May I?" I asked, trying to sound indifferent, though I wanted to see what it even looked like. Try to somehow relate it to the pictures in the textbook, at least. He smirked and handed me the microscope. I looked through the microscope and examined...if I looked and thought really hard, I could see the similarities to the picture, I guess.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand, without looking at him. He handed it to me, possibly catching on to my test to see if he would touch me. He did not. The look I gave this slide was long, I just wanted to get it right, even if it took me forever to do it.

"Interphase." I said confidently. I was sure I had this one – even if it took forever. He smiled and I handed him the microscope. He took a swift peek and wrote the answer I had said down – I was proud. I had actually learned something in class today, instead of just been paralyzed with fear!

We were finished before anyone else. The other tables seemed to be on their second and third slides and I was pretty proud that I had done at least some of the work. It was clear that Edward Cullen was one of those really smart guys, which was both great and terrible that I was forced to sit beside him. It would make me feel less adequate and make him feel more entitled to go back to glaring at me.

I looked at him briefly, after finishing my drawing of my dragon – now a complete creature with scales and bright vibrant eyes. He was already staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. Suddenly, I indentified the subtle difference I couldn't comprehend at lunch.

"Do you wear contacts?" I blurted out. I had neer been proud of my word vomit.

"No." He answered, seemingly perplexed.

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes." He shrugged and looked away. I was again impressed by my ability to end conversations so suddenly. But I knew there was something he was telling me, because there was something different about his eyes. I distinctly remembered them being as black as coal – no separation between his pupil and his iris. The colour had been terrifying against his pale skin, making him look more like a monster than an angry high school student. But it was today that I noticed his eyes were a completely different colour: an ocher, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tint.

I looked down guiltily, only to notice that his hands were balled into fists again. I turned in my chair back to my drawings – another day ruined.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working or looking at each other. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Edward, didn't you think Promise should get a chance with the microscope?" He asked, somewhat moodily.

"Proms," Edward corrected automatically, much in the same way I corrected others. My face flushed. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at me now, remembering how I had told him I had not yet studied cellular division.

"And you haven't done this lab before?"

"No, I just memorized the pictures." I mumbled.

"But it isn't so easy to put that into practice." He argued sceptically. I shrugged.

"I know. And it didn't take me five seconds to identify each slide," I glared at Edward, who smirked. "So I'd have to say that it was honest beginners luck." Mr. Banner nodded in suspicion before muttering to himself about the two of us being partners.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asked. I assumed that he was forcing this conversation so that he could discover something about me, so I put my pencil down in a very defiant way – a way that told him I was ready for anything he threw at me – as I thought of my answer.

"Yes and No." No point in tryig to lie to the guy, I didn't want to sound like everyone else who would have continued that particular conversation no matter their answer. His eyes narrowed in thought.

"How is it both." It was not a question.

I sighed." Yes, because back in Alaska I loved when it snowed. " No, because the snow here is dirty and muddy. But back in Alaska it's pretty and white."

"Forks must be a nice change from Alaska, then." I was startled at the fact he knew I was from Juneau, but decided not to ask any more stupid questions.  
" If you say so." I muttered darkly.

"Why did you come here, then?" No one had asked me that – not straight out like he did. I stiffened, actually shivering which he seemed to notice. "You don't have to answer." But he did want me to. I shrugged my shoulders.

"No, it's just-" I ran my hand through my hair. "It's really, confusing and complicated."

"I think I can keep up." There was some joke I didn't understand, or I thought there must have been by the smirk on his face. I paused, wondering how much I could tell him – realizing I probably shouldn't tell him anything. Not after the last time we had been beside each other. But then I made the mistake of looking into his eyes, almost like the honey of his voice. They confused me in their complexity and their beauty and I answered without thinking.

"I couldn't live with my father, anymore."

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, but he was quickly very sympathetic. "When did you decide that?"

" After my mother's death, my father just shut down. I couldn't stand to look at him anymore. I just hate that I had; to leave my little sister behind."

"And you don't like your godmother," he surmised, his tone still kind. I shook my head.

"Oh no, Lucy's 's great. She taught me all about cars, taught me all the things she was supposed to teach. It's just..after my Mom... my dad" He looked at me with eyes that made me want to tell my story, but I blushed and averted my gaze. I didn't want him to think I was a terrible person. "I think you might dislike me even more if I told you."

"Who said I dislike you?" I snorted.

"Okay..." I thought about how nice Mrs. Cullen had been said to be, thought about how he would never understand. I wondered if he really would think less of me? "I moved away because I had to get away from the memories of my mom and because I knew my dad and I would began to fight."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...we were starting to resent each other. I pulled away so that we could eventually stay together." I blushed. "In hindsight it will probably be stupid, but you can't really understand unless you-"

"No, I understand." He said quietly. I breathed deeply, taking a look at him. "So you miss your little sister more than anything?"

" Yes but I had to get out of Alaska for a while."

"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intensely gauging my reactions. I laughed without humour as I began running my fingers over all the designs on my binder.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way.

His gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," he said slowly. "But I'm willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I scolded, and looked away from him. "Am I wrong?" he asked. I tried to ignore him. "I didn't think so." He murmured smugly.

"What does it matter to you?" I asked in irritation. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher making his rounds.

After a few seconds of silence, however, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get. I sighed and went back to scowling at the blackboard.

"Am I annoying you?" he asked. He almost sounded amused. I rounded on him, glancing at him so I could speak – again without thinking. It was a nasty habit with him, it seemed.

"Yes. My godmother says I'm difficult to read, but you seem to read me easily." I frowned.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded like he actually meant it. I smirked at him, raising one of my eyebrows.

"You must be good with reading, then," I replied.

"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultra-white teeth. I shivered and felt a strange feeling in my chest, almost like my heart skipped or stuttered. It was strange and it made me glad to listen to Mr. Banner, who was trying to get the classes attention.

I couldn't believe that I had just explained some of the deepest, darkest things in my life to this stranger who, only one week ago, seemed more than happy to hate me. He still may or may not despise me. Then again, he had seemed engrossed in the conversation, but as I watched him from the corner of my eye, I saw that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

I tried to appear attentive to Mr. Banner while being completely attentive towards Edward and his rigid posture. I watched until the bell rang and Edward rushed as swiftly and gracefully from the room as he had the Monday before. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in awe.

"That was awful," Mike groaned, walking over to my desk. "They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen for a partner."

"I did some of it." I said, stung and defensive. He shrugged as we started to walk out of the classroom.

"Cullen seemed friendly enough today," he commented lightly. He didn't seem pleased about this new piece of information. I tried to be indifferent with a shrug.

"Guess he isn't as pissed as he was last Monday."

I could concentrate on Mike's chatter as we walked to Gym, but the class itself didn't hold any of my attention: which was bad. Luckily Mike was on my team today and he chivalrously covered my position and his own. My daze was only ever distracted when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I went up.

The rain was just mist when I walked through the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in my car. It was warmer in here, just because it wasn't so sticky. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the stares, and fluffed my damp hair so that the heater could dry it on the way home.

I looked around me to make sure it was all clear, but that's when I noticed the still, white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against his Volvo, three spaces down from me. He was staring intently in my direction...and I almost let out a strangled giggle of nervousness. It made me slip on the gear and stall the vehicle – and for those who don't understand what that means, it means I jump forward. Since I was reversing, however, I almost jumped back into a rusty Toyota Corolla before I hit the break. It was the first time my reflexes had worked like they were supposed to, and had I not been so shaken up, I would have given myself a pat on the back.

I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from my peripheral vision, I would swear I saw him laughing.

I hope you like it and please review! :)

Disclaimer: Please review and I hope you like it!:)

Chapter Two – Open Book

The next day was better...and worse.

It was better because it hadn't rained yet, though it was pretty clear from the humidity that it was inevitable. On top of that, I now knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit beside me in English and made sure to strut me to my next class, with Eric – chess club boy – glaring the entire way, which was flattering, but it also made me uncomfortable. I usually wasn't the one to get this kind of attention.

Presumably from this very awkwardness, people didn't look at me quite as much as yesterday. Which was great. I even sat with a big group a lunch that had mutated to include Mike, Eric, Jessica, Angela, and other people with faces I could remember and names that were always on the tip of my tongue. Even if I still wasn't moving, I felt like I was floating on the water instead of drowning just below the surface.

It was worse because I still couldn't sleep. Last night I had been up all night contemplating mean, harsh, and cruel things to say to Edward Cullen if his behaviour continued. Things that would make him get told about his mannsrs – something he wouldn't understand – just to make him feel stupid and look it up later. I'd come up short...and an exhausted brain had no chance of helping.

It was also worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised, and math being my worst subject, I got the answer entirely wrong. I also had to play volleyball and I spiked it into Coach Clapp's face. Oh, and to top it all off: Edward Cullen was nowhere to be seen.

All morning I had been dreading lunch, fearing whatever his mood would be that hour. I then started to fear that I should have stayed up later and thought of better come-backs. Part of me really did wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was – but I was as happy as the Cowardly Lion when he hadn't been there. I could have cheered when Angela and I walked into the cafeteria to see all four of his siblings there and no sign of him.

And then, as Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table, I started to grow more weary. Why wasn't he in school? He hadn't dropped out or anything just because he couldn't ditch Biology II...right? But then I realized, there were tons of reasons to miss a lunch. He could be in the library, he could have gone home, he could still be in the lunch line, he could have gotten sick.

After separating myself from Jessica's shameless trials at flirting with Mike, I had grabbed Angela and walked with more confidence into the class, praying that his absence at lunch meant also meant his absence from class. Mike walked faithfully behind us, cracking jokes as I held my breath going through the classroom door...

But Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and spread myself possessively over my seat and his own side of the table – mine. Mike followed and prattled on about an upcoming trip to the beach, but I could barely listen; I was far too relieved. When the bell rang, he smiled ruefully and went to his place beside a girl with a bad perm and braces. I sighed, hoping I wouldn't have to acknowledge Mike's growing interest in me. I really wasn't good with that kind of confrontation...and when I did happen to be good with those kind of talks, it was always at the other per But Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and spread myself possessively over my seat and his own side of the table – mine. Mike followed and prattled on about an upcoming trip to the beach, but I could barely listen; I was far too content. When the bell rang, he smiled ruefully and went to his place beside a girl with a bad perm and braces. I sighed, hoping I wouldn't have to acknowledge Mike's growing interest in me. I really wasn't good with that kind of confrontation. I'm not a mean person but I could be when I am pushed.

Spreading my things out was at the expense of possibly chasing my lab partner away. Why, I still had no idea, but I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn't here. It was ridiculous, and arrogant, to think that I could affect someone so much. And yet, I couldn't stop worrying it was true. I mean, was I really that influential? Surely not to someone like him.

When the school day was finally done and I had stopped stuttering out my excessive apologies to Coach Clapp, I changed quickly back into acid wash jeans and a baby blue sweater. I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever/ friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot that was starting to overflow, each second getting more condensed with fleeing students. I got in my car and dug through my bag to make sure I had everything that I needed.

Last night I'd discovered that Lucy still hadn't taught herself how to cook anything besides some bacon and the occasional fried egg. I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. She was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall when I also discovered that there was no food in the house. I had my shopping list and the money from the jar labelled FOOD MONEY, so with that mental checklist running through my mind, I set out to the Thrift way.

I cranked up my new car to life, ignoring the heads that turned towards me. I backed carefully into a place in the line of cars escaping the parking lot and winced. I tried to pretend that I wasn't watching the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their shiny Volvo. I quickly took a look at their clothes, brought on by the fact the little one, Alice, was wearing some form of expensive sequin that sparkled and caught my eye. I had never noticed how they dressed exceptionally well; simply, but with subtle hint of designer origins; which was funny, considering I did the exact opposite. It was with their remarkable good looks and the style with which they carried themselves that would have allowed them to wear dishrags and pull it off on a runway. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them any acceptance here.

But I reminded myself of how everyone had told me that this segregation was their choice. And for once, I had decided to believe the rumours; simply because I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty. I ignored their eyes as they watched my car pass them and swore that I would never diss grocery shopping again, now that it had saved me from that tension.

When I got home from my forty minute shopping trip, I unloaded all the groceries and stuffed them wherever I deemed appropriate. I hoped Luce wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in a spicy marinade – too late to ask myself whether or not Lucy even liked spice – and let it soak in the fridge as I finished my sloppy organization.

When I was done that, I took my bag upstairs. I quickly decided I wasn't in the mood for my homework, so I changed into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and checked my emails from my laptop for the first time in the three days I'd been here. I had six messages.

"Promise," my father wrote. "Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you, I'm so sorry you decided to live with your godmother. I hope you don't have some silly idea that it's permanent. Aurora is looking for her paintbrushes, have you seen it? We miss you. Dad."

I sighed and went to the next, sent eight hours after the first.

"Promise," my Mom rote. "Why haven't you emailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Dad."

Then one from Aurora, reading simply:

"Where did you put my paint brushes? I know you use them because I use them, but you better not have taken it with you! A. xox"

I smiled, wondering how she could still blame me for idolizing her so much that I would steal her things now that I was in a completely different state. Something told me that this would continue every time she would lose something. Oh well.

Aurora," I began simply. "I know you'll end up blaming me for a lot of it, but for the record I haven't taken any of your things...except your red ribbon." .Anyway, I hope you're taking care of Dad. Keep me posted on how everything is going on, alright. I love you. I miss you. Write back soon!"

I moved next to my father, which I wrote quickly.

Dad," I began. "Everything is great. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something exciting to write about, alas it is never that simple. School isn't bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit with me at lunch.

"Aurora should finder her paint brushes under her bed , so don't worry about it.

"Lucy bought me a brand new car! Can you believe it? Tell Rora that it's a 2003 Grey Ford Mustang. I know, the colour is too common in my things anyway."

"I miss you both. I'll write again soon, but I'm not getting on this laptop every day to check my email. Miss you. Love you.

"Promise."

When I was done with my messages, I took out my favourite novel. It was not something I had to read for this English class, though I would have had to read it for my English class back in Juneau. I had discovered it years before it could be polluted by the forcible time commitment from the educational prison. They probably weren't into the whole idea of 'other cultures and religious views' in this area, so I'd have to keep this on the down-low. It was my favourite book, Paradise Lost, about the fall of the Morningstar. It was basically a giant poem.

It was all I did instead of being at home doing homework, and that was exactly what I was doing when Lucy came home. I panicked and made sure that the food wasn't burnt – nearly so, it would be a little dry – when shw walked through the door.

" Promise?" My godmother called out when she heard me dash down the stairs.

"Hey, Luce, welcome back."

Thanks." She hung up her gun belt and stepped out of her boots as I bustled about the kitchen, sorting out the food. As far as I was aware, she had never shot his gun on the job. But she always kept it ready like any good cop should – or that was what she thought. When I came here as a child, she would always remove the bullets as soon as she walked through the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident. And I guess she didn't think I was depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose. That or she was now to lazy to care at all.

"What's for dinner?" she asked warily. My mother was an imaginative cook, her experiments weren't always pleasant. I was surprised, and sad, she seemed to remember that far back.

"Steak and potatoes," I answered and added, "a real 'womens' meal," when she looked relieved. Since she was awkwardly standing in the kitchen, unsure of what to do I let her go watch TV while I finished up. We were both too uncomfortable for her to help me out. I made salad while everything was finishing and set the table.

"Smells good, Proms." She smiled after I had called her in. I tried not to blush.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable until we both started to search for things to say. Neither of us were bothered by the quiet, it was just that we knew so soon into my move we should have started to make a connection.

"So, how do you like school? Have you made any friends?" she asked as she was taking seconds.

"Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Amgela. I sit with her friends at lunch. There's this boy Mike, who's very..." I searched for the right word. "...Friendly. Everyone – almost everyone – seems pretty nice."

"You must mean that Mike Newton. Nice kid –" he went on, completely ignoring my little hint towards Edward Cullen. "His Dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off of all the backpackers who come through here."

"Cool. So..." I began slowly, watching him carefully. "Do you know the Cullen family?"

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man."

"They...the kids...are a little, different, wouldn't you say? They don't seem to fit in very much-"

"People in this town," Lucy muttered, almost angrily. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here," he continued getting a little louder. "We're lucky to have him – lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community and all of those kids are well behaved and polite." I inhaled slowly as not to interrupt her thought. "I had my doubts, when they first arrived in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have same problems with them. But they're all very mature – I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for some of the folks who have lived here for generations. And they stick together the way a family should – camping trips every other weekend...just because they're newcomers people have to talk."

It was the longest I've ever heard Lucy talk for, nevertheless she made an entire speech out of it. She must feel very strongly about what she was saying and there were a few moments where I must have looked very surprised. I call it my wide eyed face.

"They seem nice to me." I lied, I wonder if she noticed it. I'm a very good liar. "I just noticed that they kept to themselves. They're kind ridiculous looking...pretty, I mean," I added, trying to be more complimentary.

"You should see the doctor," Lucy laughed. "It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around."

We lapsed back into a silence that I don't think either of us wanted to break. We had made our peace, had actually spoken at the dinner table: this whole kinda mother- daughter relationship had to be taken in baby steps. She cleared the table, I started the dishes; she went back to the TV, I went up to do homework. I felt tradition in the making.

That night it was quiet, which made me lay awake and think. Never a good thing. Think about the missing boy and what I was going to do tomorrow when he showed up to school – if he showed up to school. I tried to toughen my skin just by sheer willpower...but I knew it wasn't so simple. I put my iPod on – music, tonight, I was in the mood to be uplifted when I woke – and drifted to sleep a half hour later.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school – which was morbidly depressing in a way no one would understand until they realize how small the world is. Gym, the kids on my team learned that I was a pretty good player.

Edward Cullen didn't even come back to school. Each day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullen's entered the cafeteria without him. Then I could take a breath and join in on the lunchtime chatter. Most of it centered around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together. I was invited and had agreed to go, but this was mostly because I wanted to see the ocean. I think it is pretty cool; that La Push Beach wasn't dry and hot beach.

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Edward would be there. For all I knew, and hoped, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I really was responsible for this ridiculous off-time of his, selfish as it seemed.

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Lucy, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I cleaned the entire house top to bottom, got ahead on my homework, and wrote more emails to my family back in Alaska.

I did go to the library with very low expectations on Saturday, but it was stocked so poorly that my low expectations didn't even ready me for the disappointment of leaving without a card; I'd have to visit Olympia or Seattle soon to find a good book store. I wondered idly how far my car could go on gas; pretty far I'm sure – but decided that the bookstore could wait.

People greeted me in the parking lot on Monday morning and though I knew all their names, I could only wave at them because so many were saying hi. It was like I was an overnight sensation and everyone wanted to see a glimpse of the infamous Promise: the biggest klutz in town. It was colder this morning, luckily not raining, but I still had my sweatshirt on without the intention of it coming off.

In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights, which I know I didn't ace, but I hadn't done poorly at all. It made me wonder if I should re-read the booklist: just in case. But all in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks and nose, making them stuff up dramatically.

"Wow," Mike marvelled. "It's snowing."  
I looked at the cotton fluffs that were building up on the sidewalk, watched them fly mischievously past my face and smiled.

"Cool." Snow. I loved it! Back in Alaska; Aurora and I played in it all the time.

Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both turned to see where it had come from. I had my money set on Eric who was walking away with his back towards us – in the wrong direction of his next class and much faster than normal. Mike apparently had the same idea which is why he bent over and began to scrape together a pile of mush.

I'll see you at lunch." I said dismissively.

Throughout the morning, everyone was chattering on about the snow. Apparently it was the first snowfall of the New Year – which I didn't know. When Jessica and I walked to the cafeteria after Spanish, I was on high alert. I kept my binder in my hands to use as a shield, even though I knew it would make no difference – my reflexes were not close to fast enough to pull of that kind of move. Jessica thought it was hilarious, but something in my eye made it clear that if she tried to turn mutinous, I would have her head on the chopping block.

Mike caught up with us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about organizing a snow fight. I glanced toward the table in the corner out of habit and froze where I stood.  
"Hello? Promise? What do you want?" Jessica pulled on my arm to get my attention and I looked to my food, my face burning hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I had not done anything wrong.

"What's with Proms?" Mike whispered to Jessica.

"Nothing." I answered automatically, straightening myself out. "I'm just getting a soda today."

"Aren't you hungry?" Jessica asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick." I said, my eyes still on the floor. I waited for them to get their food and followed them to the table, my eyes on my feet. It at least made it so that I didn't trip over anything.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach was churning. Twice Mike showed his ridiculous amount of concern for my well being and I kept saying that I was fine. Briefly I wondered if I should play it up to escape to the nurses office for the next hour.

There was something different about them that I couldn't quite place – something that I seemed to see most in Edward. His skin was less pale, I decided. Probably flushed from how cold he was thanks to Emmett's wet hair. The circles under his eyes were less noticeable, true. But there was also something more – something that I couldn't quite tell from this far away...

"What are you staring at, Promise?" Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare. At that moment, his eyes flashed up to meet mine.

I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to hide my face, which I'm sure was starting to go beat red. I was sure that the instant that our eyes met there would have been some form of harsh or unfriendly glare, maybe even more disgust and hostility...but I hadn't detected any. Instead, he looked curious again and somehow grievously unsatisfied.

Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica said in shock, looking from him to me. I inhaled sharply.

"He doesn't look angry, does he?" I whispered, hoping he couldn't read lips.

"No," she said, continued to be confused. "Should he be?"

"Oh, he just hates my guts for no apparent reason," I mumbled. "No big deal." I still felt queasy and I put my head down on my arms.

"The Cullens don't like anybody...well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them." She stated as if it were nothing new. Which, knowing them – or not knowing them – was true. "But he's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at him, then!" I hissed at her.

She snickered, but looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that she stayed looking away from them, contemplating on slapping her or not.

Mike interrupted us then – he as planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. The way Jessica looked at him let me know that she had been lost to his charm and would do it, whether I had or not. I kept quiet. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour, I tried to play it cool but made very sure that I could not see the other table. I decided – I would go to Biology, but it was only because he hadn't looked angry. My stomach did traitorous flip-flops at the thought of sitting beside him for a whole hour again.

I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike, because he was annoying me again. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I could safely get home after gym without any injuries that weren't inflicted by my own clumsiness.

Once inside the classroom, with Mike hushing his complaints, I saw with relief that my table was empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing a microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, drawing a flower in my notebook. I had just finished drawing the beginning petals when I heard the chair next to move move, but my eyes stayed carefully close to my designs that I hadn't been about to draw, but were suddenly very essential...

Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, too stunned to listen to my instinct and pretend like I hadn't heard him. He was speaking to me now? He was still sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was actually angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, dishevelled – even so, he looked like he had just finished shooting a hair gel commercial. His dazzling face was even somewhat friendly, if guarded. But there was a small smile playing on his lips that quickened my pulse.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Promise Lovell."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up his hostility? He was being perfectly kind to me now, if almost too courteous. I tried to remind my brain how to speak since he was waiting, but I couldn't think of anything conventional to say.

"You know my name?" He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.

"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive." I grimaced, I had hoped that it wouldn't be something like that. Just remembering what the town thought bout my sudden appearance. I'd heard one of Jessica's little friends – Lauren? – wonder if I was here to seek revenge on my mother's death.

I wasn't sure if I was happy or if I was upset about it. I was somewhat glad that Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes he would come around to see who had it right. I sighed, hoping that Edward Cullen didn't know what to do either, I'd rather get a fail than look like an idiot because I didn't know what was going on.

I had never learned the stages of mitosis and though I had read the textbook, the pictures didn't actually resemble anything like an onion root, and I was sure that I wouldn't be any help at all.

"Ladies first, partner?" Edward asked. I almost groaned aloud, so today was the day he decided to be a gentleman? He was smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I warred whether or not I should say no.

"Or I could start, if you wish." The smile faded; he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent, and something in me worried that he made it so I wasn't.

"No," I said, flushing. "I'll try. But I'm sorry ahead of time."

I snapped the first slide into place and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.

"...Maybe Metophase? No. No, Prophase...I think." Well, I really did sound stupid now.

"Do you mind if I look?" He asked as politely as if I had told him the proper answer, without sounding like an idiot. I passed him the microscope and his hand had caught mine, to stop me, as he asked. His fingers were ice-cold, like he'd been holding them in the snowdrift beore class. But that wasn't why I had jerked my hand away so quickly – when he touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us. It was much stronger than static electricity and yet it was contained only to where his skin touched mine...

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling back his hand at once. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him, still staggered, as he examined the slide for under three seconds.

"You were right, it is prophase." He smiled, writing it neatly n the first space of our worksheet. He swiftly switched slides and glanced at it curiously.

"Anaphase," he murmered almost immediately. I was intimidated by his fancy script and wondered if he had been like me and taken calligraphy classes. His just seemed more natural, I had to actually try to make my writing so neat, otherwise it looked like any other student who was scrambling to get her notes done in time. I would have grabbed the sheet from him were it not for his blatant fear of touching my skin and feeling that shock again. Instead, I decided to try and at least get something educational from it.

"May I?" I asked, trying to sound indifferent, though I wanted to see what it even looked like. Try to somehow relate it to the pictures in the textbook, at least. He smirked and handed me the microscope. I looked through the microscope and examined...if I looked and thought really hard, I could see the similarities to the picture, I guess.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand, without looking at him. He handed it to me, possibly catching on to my test to see if he would touch me. He did not. The look I gave this slide was long, I just wanted to get it right, even if it took me forever to do it.

"Interphase." I said confidently. I was sure I had this one – even if it took forever. He smiled and I handed him the microscope. He took a swift peek and wrote the answer I had said down – I was proud. I had actually learned something in class today, instead of just been paralyzed with fear!

We were finished before anyone else. The other tables seemed to be on their second and third slides and I was pretty proud that I had done at least some of the work. It was clear that Edward Cullen was one of those really smart guys, which was both great and terrible that I was forced to sit beside him. It would make me feel less adequate and make him feel more entitled to go back to glaring at me.

I looked at him briefly, after finishing my drawing of my dragon – now a complete creature with scales and bright vibrant eyes. He was already staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. Suddenly, I indentified the subtle difference I couldn't comprehend at lunch.

"Do you wear contacts?" I blurted out. I had neer been proud of my word vomit.

"No." He answered, seemingly perplexed.

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes." He shrugged and looked away. I was again impressed by my ability to end conversations so suddenly. But I knew there was something he was telling me, because there was something different about his eyes. I distinctly remembered them being as black as coal – no separation between his pupil and his iris. The colour had been terrifying against his pale skin, making him look more like a monster than an angry high school student. But it was today that I noticed his eyes were a completely different colour: an ocher, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tint.

I looked down guiltily, only to notice that his hands were balled into fists again. I turned in my chair back to my drawings – another day ruined.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working or looking at each other. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Edward, didn't you think Promise should get a chance with the microscope?" He asked, somewhat moodily.

"Proms," Edward corrected automatically, much in the same way I corrected others. My face flushed. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at me now, remembering how I had told him I had not yet studied cellular division.

"And you haven't done this lab before?"

"No, I just memorized the pictures." I mumbled.

"But it isn't so easy to put that into practice." He argued sceptically. I shrugged.

"I know. And it didn't take me five seconds to identify each slide," I glared at Edward, who smirked. "So I'd have to say that it was honest beginners luck." Mr. Banner nodded in suspicion before muttering to himself about the two of us being partners.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asked. I assumed that he was forcing this conversation so that he could discover something about me, so I put my pencil down in a very defiant way – a way that told him I was ready for anything he threw at me – as I thought of my answer.

"Yes and No." No point in tryig to lie to the guy, I didn't want to sound like everyone else who would have continued that particular conversation no matter their answer. His eyes narrowed in thought.

"How is it both." It was not a question.

I sighed." Yes, because back in Alaska I loved when it snowed. " No, because the snow here is dirty and muddy. But back in Alaska it's pretty and white."

"Forks must be a nice change from Alaska, then." I was startled at the fact he knew I was from Juneau, but decided not to ask any more stupid questions.  
" If you say so." I muttered darkly.

"Why did you come here, then?" No one had asked me that – not straight out like he did. I stiffened, actually shivering which he seemed to notice. "You don't have to answer." But he did want me to. I shrugged my shoulders.

"No, it's just-" I ran my hand through my hair. "It's really, confusing and complicated."

"I think I can keep up." There was some joke I didn't understand, or I thought there must have been by the smirk on his face. I paused, wondering how much I could tell him – realizing I probably shouldn't tell him anything. Not after the last time we had been beside each other. But then I made the mistake of looking into his eyes, almost like the honey of his voice. They confused me in their complexity and their beauty and I answered without thinking.

"I couldn't live with my father, anymore."

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, but he was quickly very sympathetic. "When did you decide that?"

" After my mother's death, my father just shut down. I couldn't stand to look at him anymore. I just hate that I had; to leave my little sister behind."

"And you don't like your godmother," he surmised, his tone still kind. I shook my head.

"Oh no, Lucy's 's great. She taught me all about cars, taught me all the things she was supposed to teach. It's just..after my Mom... my dad" He looked at me with eyes that made me want to tell my story, but I blushed and averted my gaze. I didn't want him to think I was a terrible person. "I think you might dislike me even more if I told you."

"Who said I dislike you?" I snorted.

"Okay..." I thought about how nice Mrs. Cullen had been said to be, thought about how he would never understand. I wondered if he really would think less of me? "I moved away because I had to get away from the memories of my mom and because I knew my dad and I would began to fight."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...we were starting to resent each other. I pulled away so that we could eventually stay together." I blushed. "In hindsight it will probably be stupid, but you can't really understand unless you-"

"No, I understand." He said quietly. I breathed deeply, taking a look at him. "So you miss your little sister more than anything?"

" Yes but I had to get out of Alaska for a while."

"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intensely gauging my reactions. I laughed without humour as I began running my fingers over all the designs on my binder.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way.

His gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," he said slowly. "But I'm willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I scolded, and looked away from him. "Am I wrong?" he asked. I tried to ignore him. "I didn't think so." He murmured smugly.

"What does it matter to you?" I asked in irritation. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher making his rounds.

After a few seconds of silence, however, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get. I sighed and went back to scowling at the blackboard.

"Am I annoying you?" he asked. He almost sounded amused. I rounded on him, glancing at him so I could speak – again without thinking. It was a nasty habit with him, it seemed.

"Yes. My godmother says I'm difficult to read, but you seem to read me easily." I frowned.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded like he actually meant it. I smirked at him, raising one of my eyebrows.

"You must be good with reading, then," I replied.

"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultra-white teeth. I shivered and felt a strange feeling in my chest, almost like my heart skipped or stuttered. It was strange and it made me glad to listen to Mr. Banner, who was trying to get the classes attention.

I couldn't believe that I had just explained some of the deepest, darkest things in my life to this stranger who, only one week ago, seemed more than happy to hate me. He still may or may not despise me. Then again, he had seemed engrossed in the conversation, but as I watched him from the corner of my eye, I saw that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

I tried to appear attentive to Mr. Banner while being completely attentive towards Edward and his rigid posture. I watched until the bell rang and Edward rushed as swiftly and gracefully from the room as he had the Monday before. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in awe.

"That was awful," Mike groaned, walking over to my desk. "They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen for a partner."

"I did some of it." I said, stung and defensive. He shrugged as we started to walk out of the classroom.

"Cullen seemed friendly enough today," he commented lightly. He didn't seem pleased about this new piece of information. I tried to be indifferent with a shrug.

"Guess he isn't as pissed as he was last Monday."

I could concentrate on Mike's chatter as we walked to Gym, but the class itself didn't hold any of my attention: which was bad. Luckily Mike was on my team today and he chivalrously covered my position and his own. My daze was only ever distracted when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I went up.

The rain was just mist when I walked through the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in my car. It was warmer in here, just because it wasn't so sticky. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the stares, and fluffed my damp hair so that the heater could dry it on the way home.

I looked around me to make sure it was all clear, but that's when I noticed the still, white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against his Volvo, three spaces down from me. He was staring intently in my direction...and I almost let out a strangled giggle of nervousness. It made me slip on the gear and stall the vehicle – and for those who don't understand what that means, it means I jump forward. Since I was reversing, however, I almost jumped back into a rusty Toyota Corolla before I hit the break. It was the first time my reflexes had worked like they were supposed to, and had I not been so shaken up, I would have given myself a pat on the back.

I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from my peripheral vision, I would swear I saw him laughing.

I hope you like it and please review! :)


	4. Chapter 4

This is the big van scene I hope you like it and please review!

Chapter Three – Phenomenon

When I finally was able to force my eyes open from my groggy state the next morning, I noticed something was wrong immediately. Not wrong – something was different.

It was the light. It was still the gray-green light of a cloudy day in the forest, but it was clearer somehow. I realized there was no fog veiling my window. I jumped up to look outside, and then I bit back a scream. A fine layer of snow covered the yard, dusted my car, and whitened the road. But that wasn't the worst part. All the rain from yesterday had frozen solid – coating the needles of the trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns, and making the driveway a deadly ice slick. I had enough trouble not falling down when the ground was dry; I would be walking on a skating rink when I was walking on grass.

Yes. It would most definitely be more beneficial than school if I were to go back to bed, right now.

Groaning, I got out of bed and trudged downstairs with my bright emerald comforter still overtop of my head and around my shoulders. I was not a morning person and was glad that Lucy had already left for work because of my more than humiliating display of exhaustion. In a way, I realized that living with my godmom, was like living on my own and I found myself liking the time to think and be alone rather than dwelling within the fact I could do embarrassing things that no one would ever know about.

I threw down a quick bowl of cereal and some orange juice straight from the carton. Besides the icy warning signs that I shouldn't, I felt excited to go to school – and that was bad. It was kind of scary – but I wouldn't admit to myself why. I knew it wasn't the stimulating learning environment that I was anticipating, or seeing my new set of friends. If I was being honest with myself, I knew I was this eager to get to school just so I could lay eyes on Edward Cullen. And that was very, very stupid.

I should be avoiding him entirely after my brainless and embarrassing display yesterday. Not only had I proven myself less academically apt than him, I had babbled my life story as if it were the teenage angst best selling story of the decade. And I was suspicious of him; what was the point of lying about his eyes? I was still upset by the hostility I sometimes felt emanating from him, and I was still tongue tied whenever I pictured his face. I was well aware that my league and his were like the sun and the moon, though I couldn't be sure which was which. Either way, they would never be able to get along and work it out. Ever.

It took every ounce of my concentration to make it down the icy brick driveway alive. It was a feat that didn't go as smoothly as planned. I did slip right on my ass, more than once, and I almost went into the splits half a dozen times. When I finally got to the car, I managed to cling to door handle to save myself. There was a moment I was worried it would split from the body, but the nightmarish day was only giving me a warning of what was yet to come.

Driving to school, I distracted myself from my fear of falling and my unwanted speculations about Edward Cullen by thinking about Mike and Eric, both boys who undoubtedly liked me. I didn't really understand why – people hardly even had crushes on me before, just like I had never really crushed on anybody – but to have two boys like by me at the same time? Gosh!, it had never come close to happening! I was sure that I looked the same as I did in Juneau, with even more skin covered up. Maybe it was just that the boys back home had watched me go through all my awkward stages? The acne, the chubby, the braces? Maybe it was because I was a novelty here, where those rarities were not to be wasted. Or maybe my crippling clumsiness was considered adorable? I'd heard it once or twice but I had never thought that guys actually liked the girl who needed to play damsel in distress. Whatever the reason, Mike's puppy dog behaviour and Eric's apparent rivalry with him was annoying.

My truck didn't seem to have any problems getting over the black ice like my feet had. I drove slowly and carefully anyway, not wanting to carve a path of destruction through Main Street. I was completely aware of everything around me, every car that had the ability to fishtail, every car that had the ability to cut me off, every car that had the ability to get me killed on this transparent no man's land.

When I got my car to the school, I climbed out carefully, knowing that I was not as graceful as my fast Mustang. I quickly saw what made the ride different easier than my shoes when something silver caught my eye. I walked over to my tire and examined the silver chain criss-crossed over them. Lucy had gotten up who knows how early to put snow chains on my truck...

My chest swelled and my mouth dropped in what should have been an 'awe' sound. I wasn't used to be taken care of like that, and Lucy's unspoken concern caught me by intimate and heavily appreciated surprise.

I was standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to fight back the urge to text and tell my father of the sudden wave of appreciation him when I heard an odd sound that didn't match what I knew of school parking lots.

It was a high-pitched squeal, and it was becoming painfully loud very quickly. I looked up, startled as I tried to process the terrible sound that was overwhelming my eardrums.

I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it does in the movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work much more quickly, and I was able to absorb in clear detail several things all at once.

Edward Cullen wsa standing four cars down from me, staring at me in horror. His face stood out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. But of more immediate importance was the dark blue van that was skidding, tires locked, anti-lock brakes screeching, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit the back corner of my car, and I was standing between them. I didn't even have time to lose my eyes.

Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me, hard, but not from the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop and I cringed in pain as stars burst from beneath my eyelids. I was lying on the pavement behind the tan Subaru I'd been parked beside. I felt something cold and solid pin me to the ground, electrocuting me and opening my eyes in another wave of shock because I watched as the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of the car and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me again.

A low swear made me aware that someone was with me, and the voice was impossible not to recognize. Two white hands shot out protectively in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot away from my face, the large hands fitting providentially into a deep dent scooped out of the van's body.

Then his hands moved so fast that they blurred. One was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and something was dragging me, swinging my legs around like a rag dolls, til they hit the tire of the tan car. A groaning metallic thud hurt my ears and I cringed again, but the van settled down, glass popping onto the asphalt – exactly where my legs had been only a moment before.

It was absolutely silent for what felt like a lifetime as I gazed into Edward's eyes. I closed my own contentedly. The silence was so relaxing after the screeching tires.

And then the screaming began. I kept my eyes closed, hoping I could drown them out. It was much nicer, the silence. I should have stayed at home with or without Lucy– she was one of the rare few who appreciated silence. But in the real and abrupt riot out in the land of the conscious, I could hear more than one person shouting my name. But more clearly I could hear Edward Cullen's low, frantic voice in my ear.

"Promise, Proms are you okay?" He asked frantically.

No." I groaned, as I began to understand the question.

"Open your eyes." Suddenly, it was much more clear to understand what he was saying to me.

"I'm...fine." I stuttered. My voice sounded strange. I tried to sit up and realized that he was holding me against the side of his body in an iron grasp.

"Be careful," he warned, speaking slowly as I struggled to look around me. "I think you hit your head pretty hard." It was then, as if he had triggered it, that I became aware of the throbbing ache centered above my left ear.

"Ow!" I yelled in surprise. I let out a string of profanities.

"That's what I thought." I was right. His voice was, amazingly, holding back laughter.

"How in the..." I trailed off, trying to clear my mind. "How did you get here so fast?"

"I was standing right next to you, Liv." He said, his tone had once again grown serious. I turned to sit up, and this time he let me, releasing his hold around my waist and sliding as far from me as he could in what little space we had. I looked at his concerned, innocent expression and was disoriented again by the force of his gold-coloured eyes. What was I asking him?

And then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting back at us, as if we could decipher what they were screaming and to whom.

"Don't move!"

"Someone get Tyler out of the van!"

There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up but Edward's cold hand pushed my shoulder down, my body followed him instinctively as I leaned into his jacket, my head was as heavy as a bag of bricks. He had no problem supporting it.

"Just stay put for now."

"But I'm so cold," I complained. It surprised me when he chuckled under his breath. There was an edge to the sound. Then, lightning.

"You were over there," I remembered. His chuckle stopped short. "You were by your car."

"You were over there," I remembered. His chuckle stopped short. "You were by your car."

His expression immediately hardened. "No, I wasn't."

"I saw you." All around us was chaos. Nothing was making sense besides the fact that I knew he was lying to me. There was no misunderstanding, I knew what I had seen. I was right, he was going to admit it. I was sick of him taking advantage of me – my newness, the weakness in my knees...

"Promise," the sound of my full name sounded like I was being scolded. "I was standing with you and I pulled you out of the way." He unleashed the full, devastating power of his golden eyes on me, as if trying ot communicate something crucial that I refused to listen to.

"No." I set my jaw.

The golden eyes blazed more. "Please, Proms."

"Why?" I demanded. I was not going to lie for someone who couldn't even do me the decencly of liking me half the time. He shook his head, looking at the people around for less than a second, trying to communicate something else that I couldn't understand.

"Trust me," he pleaseded, his voice was so overwhelming that I felt myself crumble.

It took six EMTs and two teachers to shift the van away enough so that they could bring the stretchers in. Edward vehemently refused his and when I tried to do the same he turned traitor and confided to them that I had hit my head and would most likely have a concussion. I almost died from the humiliation when they tried to put on the neck brace. I fought against it for a good three minutes before Edward fixed me with his stare and told me to let them do their job. I was sure that I had turned into puddy, which was the only excuse and reason I let them do it.

The entire school seemed to be there, watching me be loaded into the back of the ambulance. The traitor got to ride in the front, but I could feel his eyes almost constantly on me and every time I would complain, his chuckle sounded to my side. It made me complain more.

To make matters worse, Chief Hayden arrived before they could get me safely away.

"Promise!" My godmom yelled in panic when she recognized me on the stretcher.

"I'm fine, Lucy," I sighed. "Really, there's nothing wrong with me, this is really stupid and unneccesary."

She turned to the closest EMT for a second opinion. I tuned her out to consider the jumble of inexplicable images churning chaotically in my head. Any reputation or friends I had yet to meet in this school were officially gone. They may as well have been strangers all over again. And not to mention as I had been pulled away I had seen the dent in the tan car's bumper – in the exact well sculpted shape of Edward's shoulders...as if he braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame.

n the distance I could identify his family very clearly. They had expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury, but held no hint of concern for their brother's safety. It sent off more warning flares. It was the one sign that something was wrong and there was a chance that I wasn't actually insane at all.

Naturally the ambulance got a police escort to the county hospital. I felt ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me and to make it worse, Edward simply glided through the hospital doors under his own power. I ground my teeth together and tried to hold back a scream – I screamed at my godmother once when she asked if they would be taking an x-ray.

"Don't give them ideas!"

They put me in a long room with a line of beds separated by oddly patterned curtains: this was a tiny emergency room. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm, a thermometer in my mouth, and a clip on my finger. I've been to the hospital often, it's a trip I make at a minimum of three times a year, yet I had never felt so babied. I took the first chance I saw – the nurse with her back turned – to undo the Velcro of my neck brace and throw it under the bed.

There was another group of doctors and nurses as another stretcher was brought to me. I recognized Tyler Crowley fom my Government class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Tyler looked one hundred times worse than I felt which made me feel one hundred times worse than he looked. But he was ignoring his injuries and staring at me guiltily.

"Promise, I am so sorry!"

"Tyler, I'm fine. You look like death, are you all right?" As we spoke, nurses began unwinding his soiled bandages, exposing a myriad of shallow slices all over his forhead and left cheek. It was bleeding a lot for how shallow the little gashes were and suddenly I only felt fifty times worse than he looked, instead of the full one hundred. It wouldn't disfigure him.

"I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong..." he winced as a nurse started dabbing at his face.

"I said don't worry about it; you missed me."

"How'd you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone..." I narrowed my eyes.

I had just ruled out my option of insanity.

"Yeah...Edward pulled me out of the way."

He looked confused. "Who?"

"Edward? Edward Cullen? He was beside me and he pulled me out the way."

"Cullen? I didn't see him...wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?"

"I think so." I answered honestly. "He's here somewhere, but they didn't make him use a stretcher."

Now that I knew I wasn't crazy, I needed to try and figure out what had happened. There was no way to properly explain everything I had seen. I had seen him by his car...then I saw Tyler's van...then I felt something hit me and then he was there...

No. It really is impossible.

I tried to fall asleep as they wheeled me away to go to my X-ray. My head was pounding and even when I told them there was nothing wrong besides the fact they hadn't given me painkillers, they refused to listen. In the end, I was right. There was no concussion – okay, there was a little one, but not one even worth anything other than being woken up every two hours or so. No big deal. It obviously wasn't that serious. I had asked to leave but the nurse said I had to wait to talk to the doctor. And so I was trapped in the ER, waiting for the doctor and pushing away the headache I already had as well as the one I was getting from Tyler's constant apologies. I told him not to worry about it, but he continued anyway. When I closed my eyes this time, I really did try to fall asleep. Just to ignore him and just to make the world go away.

"Cullen? I didn't see him...wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?"

"I think so." I answered honestly. "He's here somewhere, but they didn't make him use a stretcher."

Now that I knew I wasn't crazy, I needed to try and figure out what had happened. There was no way to properly explain everything I had seen. I had seen him by his car...then I saw Tyler's van...then I felt something hit me and then he was there...

tried to fall asleep as they wheeled me away to go to my X-ray. My head was pounding and even when I told them there was nothing wrong besides the fact they hadn't given me painkillers, they refused to listen. In the end, I was right. There was no concussion – okay, there was a little one, but not one even worth anything other than being woken up every two hours or so. No big deal. It obviously wasn't that serious. I had asked to leave but the nurse said I had to wait to talk to the doctor. And so I was trapped in the ER, waiting for the doctor and pushing away the headache I already had as well as the one I was getting from Tyler's constant apologies. I told him not to worry about it, but he continued anyway. When I closed my eyes this time, I really did lan to fall asleep. Just to ignore him and just to make the world go away.

"Is she sleeping?" a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open. Edward was standing at the foot of my bed, smirking down at me. I raised my eyes to glare at him but I knew that I had fallen short, it was hard to dislike a guardian angel.

"Hey, Edward, I'm really sorry –" Tyler begn. Edward lifted a hand to stop him.

"No blood, no foul," he said, flashing his bright and brilliant smile to him. He moved to sit on the edge of Tylers bed, completely ignoring him. He smirked again.

"So, what's the verdict?" he asked me.

"There's nothing wrong with me – just like I said." Even I heard the lie in my voice. "Okay, fine. Small concussion. Little, baby one. No big deal. They won't let me go until I speak with a doctor." He raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. "Probably just protocol." Then, my glare became real as I struggled against the sheet. "Hey! How come you aren't strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?"

"It's all about who you know," he winked. My breath hitched. "But don't worry, I came to spring you."

Then I was glad I knew him. The doctor walked around the corner and my mouth fell open. He was young, he was blonde, and he was more gorgeous than any movie or soap opera star I had ever had the pleasure to lay my eyes on. He was pale, with circles under his eyes. It was from my godmom's description that I knew this to be Edward's father.

"So, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen said with remarkable tenor and sweetness, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." I said and I hoped to God it was for the last time. He walked to the lightboard on the wall over my head and turned it on.

"Your X-rays look good," he said. "Does your head hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard."

"It's fine," I repeated with a sigh, throwing a not-so-subtle glare towards Edward who was innocently looking around the hospital room. What was he, twelve? I sat still as the doctor's cool fingers started to probe lightly around my skull. I prepared myself as he neared where it had hit but hadn't done well enough to go without a small wince. He and Edward both seemed to notice automatically.

"Tender?"

"In comparison to other miraculous escapes I've made? Not at all." I smiled. I heard a chuckle and looked over to Edward who was outwardly laughing at me.

"And those come how often?" I blushed. Oh, he was being sarcastic. Well, did I have news for him.

"The real funny thing here is that you still think I'm joking." His smile momentarily faded, before he chuckled again. I narrowed my eyes.

"It seems someone will have to keep a close eye on you, Promise."

" I can take care of myself," I said, stubbornly.

The doctor cleared his throat, throwing my attention rattling back to him.

"Well, your godmother is in the waiting room – you can go home now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all, she has been given instructions on how to take care of you."

"Can't I go back to school?" I asked, imagining Lucy trying to be attentive. It would be an awkward fate for the both of us. I just wanted to go to school and show everyone that I was okay, that no one needed to baby me or ask me how I was doing. I was fine.

"Maybe you should take it easy today." Dr. Cullen suggested. I narrowed my eyes and in one of my more childish moments pointed straight to Edward.

"Does he get to go to school?"

"Someone has to spread the good news that we survived," Edward said smugly.

"Actually," Dr. Cullen corrected with a meaningful look towards him. "Most of the school seems to be in the waiting room."

" Isn't this just great! People asking me annoying questions. This is just what I need."

Edward just started to chuckle again and Dr. Cullen raised his eyebrows, looking amused.

"Do you want to stay?"

"No, no!" I insisted, throwing my legs over the bed and hopping down too quickly. I had to use the bed to steady myself and took a deep breath. When I opened my eyes – when had they closed? – both Cullen's were ready to catch me. Before they could say anything I repeated my mantra: "I'm fine."

"Take some Tylenol for the pain," he suggested as I steadied.

"It...doesn't hurt that bad..." I insisted. But I was a terrible liar and the doctor raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"It sounds like you were extremely lucky." Dr. Cullen said, turning his eyes down to my chart which he signed with a beautiful flourish, his writing just as elegant as his son's.

"I am very lucky that Edward was there to save the day." I amended with a hard glance. That wasn't a lie, so it was natural. I tried the lie on my tongue. "He was standing right next to me." It sounded slightly robotic, but I tried to make it as realistic as possible.

Whether it was believable or not, I didn't know. But I was proud. It was definitely the best I had ever done. I usually had no need to lie. I didn't usually do things wrong and when I did, I usually admit to it as soon as it would come up. Now was the exception. Now I needed to lie until I found out if it was even worth lying for.

Which I didn't even need to wait to know. I knew it was.

"Oh, well, yes," Dr. Cullen agreed, suddenly very interested in Tyler's charts. He then turned away and began to talk to Tyler.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I hissed under my breath. He took a step back from me, suddenly much more serious and a type of stiffness you would see from a cocky business man.

"Your godmother is waiting for you," he muttered through his teeth. I glanced at Dr. Cullen and Tyler to make sure that they weren't listening.

"I'd like to speak with you alone, please and thank you." I pressed. He glared at me and I sighed, so we were back on this territory. The territory where you get creepy black eyes and look like you want to eat me alive. Great.

He turned his back and started running down the hall so that I nearly had to run to keep up. This resulted in me shouldering a doorway rather painfully and hissing at it. It was then that he stopped and spun around to face me.

"What do you want?" he asked me, sounding annoyed. His eyes were once again cold and my breath stuttered at the sight. It was one thing to have it engrained in my memories, but it was another to see it in the flesh. And this time it wasn't me trying to ignore the stare, even if his eyes were still golden, but this time I was shrinking away from it: absolutely terrified by the intensity behind his anger. It intimidated me. My words came out far less confident than I had wanted them to be.

"You remember what you owe me?" When he said nothing, I elaborated. "I want an explanation."

"I saved your life – I don't owe you anything." I flinched back from the resentment, which he seemed to see. He had found my weak point now, I could see it in his eyes. I planted my feet, holding strong.

"You promised me."

"Promise, you hit your head. You don't know what you're talking about."

Now my temper flared. "There is nothing wrong with my head."

"What do you want from me, Promise?" He glared.

"I want to know the truth." I insisted, as if it were obvious. "Tell me why I'm lying for you."

"Hm. And what do you think happened?"

"Well...first you weren't anywhere near me – Tyler didn't see you either, so don't tell me I hit my head too hard. You were not there. Then-then you somehow got to me and the van – the van was going to crush us both. But it didn't. And your hands, they left dents int he side of it – the other car too! But you aren't hurt at all, you didn't even need to ride the in the ambulance, you just did – and the van should have crushed my legs but you were holding it up and you moved them..."

I could hear how insane it sounded, but I couldn't continue further than I already had. I was so frustrated that I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes, but I did not cry, I would not cry. I tried to force them back by remembering why I was so angry. It was hard to do when I was so intimidated by the beautiful, vicious creature in front of me, but now he was staring at me incredulously, like what I had said was a shock to him. But I could tell he was guarded.

"You think I lifted a van off you?" His tone questioned my sanity – which made me more suspicious. He had not agreed with or denied my story. It was like he was an actor with a very set script. I did the same thing when I was lying because I knew that if I said the words directly, they would never come out right. Because of the frustration building up behind my eyes, I could only nod.

"No one will believe that, you know." His voice held an edge of derision, now. I blinked a couple times, looking at him in shock.

"I-I'm not going to tell anybody." I said each word carefully, letting him know that the idea was foreign to me.

"Then why does it matter?" He asked, the surprise on his face now blatantly matching the shock on my own. I took a deep breath, centering myself.

"It matters to me. I don't like – I don't lie. Ever, in case you haven't been able to tell. I want to make sure there's a good reason for me to even put forth the effort."

"Can't you just thank me and get over it?" He asked in exhasperation.

"Thank you." I waited.

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"Not a chance." His eyes narrowed at me and there was a moment where we just glared at each other.

"In that case...I hope you enjoy disappointment."

We scowled at each other, but for some reason, neither of us seemed able to move. I was the first to speak, only because I was trying to keep myself together beore I fell apart. I was in danger of being distracted by his livid, glorious face.

"Why did you even bother?" I asked in a dejected, yet somehow angry whisper. He paused and or a brief moment his stunning face was unexpectedly vulnerable.

"I don't know." He whispered. And just like that, he turned his back on me and walked away.

It took a while before I could move. I was so flushed with emotion – anger, sadness, rejection, worry, curiosity – that when I could walk, I was shakey as I made my way to the exit at the end of the hall. It may have been this that made the waiting room worse than I had feared. It seemed like every face I knew in Forks was there, staring at me. Lucy rushed to my side; I put up my hands.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with me – don't even start." I assured her, authoritatively. I was still aggravated and though I didn't mean to, I knew I was taking it out on her.

"What did the doctor say? I was told there was something wrong – a nice concussion, in fact." She asked, not believing my diagnosis.

"Dr. Cullen saw me," I threw a name I kenw he would trust. "And he said I was fine and could go home." I sighed. Mike, Jessica, and Eric were all there, beginning to converge on us. "Let's just go, please?"

Lucy put one arm behind my back, not quite touching me, and led me to the glass doors of the exit. I waved sheepishly at my friends, hoping to convey that they should all stop worrying about me. It was a huge relief – the first time I'd ever felt that way – to get into the cruiser. Not nearly as embarrassing as I had feared.

We drove home in silence and I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I barely knew Lucy was there. I was positive that Edward's decisive behaviour in the hall was a confirmation of the bizarre things I had managed to stumble out, that I had witnessed when he had saved my life. It was when we got to the house she finally spoke.

"Uh...you need to call Rob." She hung her head as my eyes bulged out of my head.

"You told Das! What were you thinking?"

"Sorry." I slammed the cruiser's door a little harder than necessary on my way out and called my Dad, who was of course in hysterics and trying to get me to come back to Juneau that day so that a 'proper physician' could look me over. I told him that I was feeling better about six hundred times before he would calm down, where she pleaded more. He even got Aroura on the phone. It was the second time Aroura had cried for me in a month.

But their pleas for me to come back were easier to ignore. I was completely absorbed by the mystery Edward Cullen represented, and even more foolishly I seemed to be getting more and more obsessed with Edward himself. It was stupid. And I should be more eager and jumping on the opportunity of home instead of worrying solely on a boy – who may or may not possess some form of mutant, superhero, or supernatural capabilities.

I decided I may as well go to bed early that night, since I had nothing to do anyway. Charlie continued to watch me like a hawk and check on me every half hour and though it was getting on my nerves, I accepted it humbly. It was sweet in his own, awkward way. I stopped on my way to grab five Aleve from the bathroom. They did help and as the pain eased, I drifted off to sleep without so much as the sound of the rain or music to help me.

That was the first night I dreamed in such vivacity of Edward Cullen.


	5. Chapter 5

Any of you thinking that you will want to see Promise in the other stories? Because I'm telling you, if I get enough reviews I'm really going to Bella Bash and make New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn into something even more page turning than it was...or that's the hope. Review? Please!

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Ice Moon and all it's original characters belong to me. Meaning not any of the ones you love most, obviously.

Chapter Four – Invitations

My dream was dark and what little light I could see seemed to be emanating from Edward's own skin as he walked away from me. I couldn't see his face as he left me alone in the darkness, no matter how fast I would run I could not catch him. I fought against the speed barriers harder. I tried calling out, but there was not one time I did where he would answer me. I woke up startled in the middle of the night and took my sweet time to get back to sleep. He was in every dream I ever had after that point, but he was always on the sidelines and never within my grasp.

The month that followed the accident was very tense and even more embarrassing. To my dismay I seemed to be the center of attention for that week. Tyler was impossible: constantly following me around, obsessed with apologizing, and continually just waiting for a way to make it all up to me. No matter how much I told him that was not even close to what I wanted: he refused to listen. I told him I wanted to forget about it all, but that didn't seem an option for him. It was burned into his memory and there it would stay. When he started to infiltrate our group of friends – yes, that is how bad it got – Mike and Eric were shorter with him than they were with each other. I laughed at the idea of them coming together over a greater common enemy – someone new to steal my affections! It was like my own comic book; if only they knew.

No one seemed concerned about Edward at all, even after I explained over and over again that he really was the hero – how he had pulled me out of the way and was nearly crushed himself. It wasn't hard when I always put the story that way – all I would have to add was a simple 'but he wasn't' and my story could be plausible. This made it easy to tell because my head would always fill in that final blank. It was easy to deter people from the truth when they would ask if the rumours were true – about him being right beside me. I'd hum my affirmation. Jessica, Eric, and Mike were the only ones who ever commented that they hadn't even seen him there until the van was pulled away. I figured I was in the clear.

I wondered constantly why no one had seen him standing by his car. I mean, technically I hadn't seen how he had gotten so close, so quickly but had no one else seen him to begin with? When he was still at point A? And that's when it hit me, I realized that no one was as conscious of Edward Cullen's presence as I was. No one watched him like I did, no one felt his presence and wished that his presence was constantly there, like I constantly did. How pathetic.

Edward was never surrounded by crowds of curious bystanders eager for his firsthand account. People still kept to their wide birth of him and his family, the lucky jerks. The Cullens and the Hales sat at the same table as always, not eating, talking only among themselves. Not one of them glanced my way anymore. Not even Edward.

When we were in class together he was totally ignorant of my presence and had taken to angling his chair away from me and staying at the extreme opposite side of the desk. It was only now and then, when his fists would suddenly ball up, that I wondered whether or not he was as oblivious as he let on.

It was clear what he thought – he shouldn't have pulled me from in front of Tyler's van. That was all it had to come down to. I wanted very much to talk to him and I had tried once or twice. I felt bad that the last time we had talked it had been out of viciousness and unrequited curiousity. I still was angry that he wouldn't trust me with the truth, even though I was keeping my part of the bargain flawlessly...only because I could tip-toe around the actual lie itself. But it still counted! Either way, he had saved my life and the anger I had felt by being so left out of the secret had quickly fade into gratitude and awe.

I had said hello to him once, the day after it had happened. I apologized for my behaviour, as well. He had turned his head, his eyes soft and curious before he nodded to me, and regained his position as far from me as possible. And that was it. That was the only contact I had had, even though he sat only two feet away from me every single day. I watched him sometimes – it was the best I could do, behaviour wise and I had a feeling if I cut myself from that I would have turned into a full-blown stalker. I was fascinated as I watched his eyes get darker day by day. In class I gave no more notice that he existed than he had shown me and I was completely miserable. To make it worse? The dreams continued full force.

Vivid dreams. The dreams where I never saw his face, never touched him, and could never catch him – but it was more constant than the Edward Cullen in real life, and so the dreams gave me some small piece of fantasy that he refused to fill in for me.

Despite my outright cyber-lies, Aroura was alerted to my depression and had called nearly every other night, not caring about the long distance charges. I tried to convince her it was the weather that brought me down, but each day she would ask about the crazy boy who saved my life – she had caught on, even if she knew I wasn't ready to admit it.

Mike, at least, was pleased by the obvious coolness between my lab partner and me. I could see that his fear had been that I would go into the Tyler scenario with Edward Cullen, since I was now indebted to him, but he was very relieved when I seemed to be showing all the opposite signals...to which he caught on, anyway. He grew much more bold, even daring to sit at the edge of my table and making plans, which he would later refer to as 'dates' with me before Bio started; which annoyed me to no end– all the while ignoring Edward Cullen's very existence.

The best thing that came out of that icy day was that it rained soon after the accident and the snow was washed away for good. Mike was disappointed that he had never gotten to throw his attack plans during a snowball fight into action, but was happy that the beach trip could be fast occurring. The rain continued heavily, though, as the weeks passed.

Jessica made me aware of another event looming on the horizon – she called the first Tuesday of March to ask my permission to invite Mike to the "Girls' choice spring dance" in two weeks.

"Are you sure you don't mind...you weren't planning on asking him?" she persisted when I told her that I didn't mind in the least. I knew she was only protesting to try and seem less selfish than she was, but I gave her brownie points for even getting that far.

"I definitely wasn't going to ask him. I usually don't take dates. I doubt I can even go." I gave three statements all at once, even though I had to bite my tongue after the last one. I didn't dance period.

"It will be really fun." Her attempted to convince me was as half-hearted as I expected it to be. I knew that she enjoyed my masked popularity more than my company. But I didn't want to go. Not when I could expect him there.

The next day I was surprised that Jessica wasn't her bubbly, give-all-the-details self in Trig. The pattern continued all through Spanish. She was silent as we walked the halls between classes, which made me more afraid to ask her than anything. So I didn't. Normally she would have exploded with gossip by now, which told me there was no gossip to tell. Something told me that it had to do with Mike Newton, and if Mike had turned her down, I was the last person she would want to confide in.

I knew I was right during Lunch when Jessica and Mike sat at polar opposite sides of the table. Jessica was even talking it up with Eric – who annoyed her senselessly – to try and see if she could get a rise out of Mike. But Mike was quiet all through lunch, even more so when he walked with me to class. The look of discomfort was a bad sign. He didn't talk to me at all before I found him perched on my desk, waiting for class to start. I was trying not to be as electrically aware of Edward Cullen who was currently sitting close enough to touch.

"So," Mike said, rather loudly. His eyes were not looking at me and I froze. Please, don't let this happen... "Jessica asked me to the spring dance."

"That's great." My voice was somewhat strained, which I immediately worried would give him the wrong impression. "You'll have a lot of fun with Jess."

"Well..." he floundered as he examined my smile; he had not expected that response and I could tell he felt I was snubbing him – which I was. "I told her I would have to think about it."

A look of horror crossed my face. That explained it all, the lack of tears because of the false hope. I let the disapproval colour my face, letting him see I wasn't intereated. "Why'd you say something stupid like that?"

Ah, too blunt, Promise. Now his face was as red as a tomato and he looked down. Pity shook my resolve and I actually felt bad for him.

"I was wondering if...well, if you might be planning to ask me." My mouth flipped open an it took me a moment to close it. I can't believe he'd actually had the courage to outright say it. I saw in my peripheral as Edward's head reflexively tilted to clearly hear my response. It made it all the more humiliating.

"Mike..." I said, feeling somewhat irritated. "I think you should tell her yes."

"Did you already ask someone?" I really hoped Edward didn't notice how Mike's eyes had flickered over to him. I felt the guilt be replaced with indignation.

"No." I assured him, watching as Edward's held tilted even more to hear my reason. I made quick work of making my final decision and tilted my chin up to continue. "I'm not going."

"Why not?" Mike all but demanded.

" Because I don't dance," I snapped. "I'm going to Seattle that Saturday." I explained, glad it didn't sound like a lie. I had to find a bookstore or some sort, besides that I wanted to buy a few things and remember what it's like to live in the city. It would be a nice day to myself.

"Can't you go some other weekend?" Yes, but I won't tell you that.

"You shouldn't make Jess wait any longer – it's rude. I'll see you when I get back."

"Yeah, you're right." He mumbled and turned around dejectedly to go back to his own lab bench. I closed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair, in frustration. Edard Cullen was staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustration even more distinct now in his black eyes. I was so surprised that I stared back, expecting him to look quickly away. He must have taken it as a challange because he continued to gaze with probing intensity right into my own strange eyes. There was no question of me looking away.

Mr. Cullen?" the teacher called, seeking the answer to a question that I hadn't even heard. Edward took in a breath, holding my gaze for a moment longer as he turned to look at Mr. Banner.

"The Krebs Cycle." He answered, getting gold stars once again. I took a deep breath, angry with the rush of emotion that was running through me – just because he had happened to look at me for the first time in six weeks. I hated that he had this level of control over my mind. It was pathetic and proving to be unhealthy.

I was relieved when the bell rang and turned to gather my things, thinking that as always Edward Cullen would have run away. I was shocked to see him watching me again, but ignored him as I looked down and watched as I shoved my books with unnecessary force into my bag.

"Promise?" His voice shouldn't have been so familiar to me, as if the sound had been engrained in my memory over such a short period of time. I looked up at him, trying to calm the emotions I knew would overtake me when I looked at his too-perfect face. My expression was warped when I met eyes with him; his expression was unreadable. And he was silent.

" What? Are you speaking to me again?" I finally asked, an unintentional note of petulance in my voice.

His lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. "No, not really," he admitted.

I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose, aware that I was grinding my teeth viciously. He waited for my involuntary response to be over. "What do you want, Edward?" I asked as I kept my eyes closed. It was easier to talk to him this way.

"I'm sorry." I opened my eyes because of the sincerity and yet seriousness of his tone. It was like he was apologizing for more than I knew. "I'm being very rude, I know. But it's better this way, really."

"I don't understand what you're getting towards."

"It's better if we're not friends," he elaborated. "Trust me."

My eyes narrowed. I had heard that before. "It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier," I hissed through my teeth as I shoved my pencil case in my book bag and threw it over my shoulder. "You could have saved yourself all this regret."

"Regret?" I had obviously caught him off guard with my tone and my abrupt urge to leave him standing in my dust. "Regret for what?"

" For not just letting that stupid van squish me."

He stared at me in disbelief and astonishment, which quickly turned to some form of irritation.

"You think I regret saving your life?"

"I know you do." I snapped.

"You don't know anything." Well, at least now I knew that he was definitely mad at me. I turned my head away from him and started walking past him and out the door, ignoring Mike who was still talking to Angela.  
I turned my head sharply away frrom, clenching my jaw against all wild accusations I wanted to hurl at him. I gathered my books together, then stood and walked to the door. I meant to sweep dramatically out of the room, but of course I caught the toe of my boot on the doorjamb and dropped my books. He was there; he already stacked them into a pile. He handed them to me, his face hard.

" Thank you," I said icily.

His eyes narrowed.

"You're welcome." He retorted. I straightened up and turned away from him, walking by myself to Gym.

Gym was brutal. We had moved to basketball, which my team refused to pass to me, and I found that the other team really utilized my lack of balance by somehow making me fall down. Sometimes I even took people with me. Today was worse because my head was so filled with Edward Cullen – and matching paraphernalia – that I couldn't concentrate on my feet.

It was a relief, as always, to leave. I almost ran to my car; there were so many things I wanted to avoid – such as humanity as a whole. That took a lot of practice that I was well versed in. The Mustanghad suffered only minimal damage in the accident. I had to replace the tail lights, but was lucky I hadn't had the chance to paint it yet or else I would have had to touch it up. Tyler's parents had to sell the van for parts. Better than Lucy selling me for parts.

I almost had a stroke when I saw a tall, dark figure leaning against my truck. With closer examination I saw that it as Eric and wondered briefly what the best way would be to shoo him from my door.

"Hey, Eric." I smiled, hoping he would get the hint as I stood close, hovering around the drivers side.

"Hey, Promise."

"What's up?" I said, going to unlock the door. He still didn't move. I looked up at him with suspicious eyes only to see how uncomfortable and guarded he looked. No way, this couldn't be happening...

"Uh, I was just wondernig...if you would go to the spring dance with me?" His voice broke the last word, it broke my resolve for pure bitchiness.

"Funny, I thought it was girls' choice?" I muttered, getting out my keys and not being subtle about shoving them in to unlock the door. He shuffled a bit to the side, but did not move.

"Well, yeah," he admitted. I recovered my composure completely, feeling bad for the way I was blatantly being rude. It was not in my nature. I tried to smile as warmly as I culd.

"Thank you for asking me, but I'm going to be in Seattle that day."

"Oh," he mumbled. "Well, maybe next time."

"Yeah sure," I agreed but immediately held my breath.

He was back to school before I could take it back, and I kicked my tire – carefully – before I heard a chuckle. Edward was walking past the front of my truck, looking straight forward, his lips pressed together. I yanked the door open and jumped inside, slamming it loudly behind me. I wondered if I was fast enough to hit him – it was a fleeting thought as I remembered how he had saved my life. So one, I shouldn't, it wouldn't be diplomatic; and two, I probably wouldn't cause any damage to anyone other than myself.

I rev the engine and reversed out into the lot. Edward was in his car already, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of me – just in time to cut me off. He stopped there, to wait for his faily. I could see the four of them walking this way, but still by the cafeteria.

"Why does he keep annoying me?" I muttered to myself.I briefly considered taking out the rear end of his stupid, shiny car – I hate Volvo's – but realized there were too many witnesses.

here was a line beginning to form, I realized as I looked out my rearview mirror. Directly behind me, Tyler Crowley was in his recently acquired used Sentra, waving at me, but I was too annoyed to wave back. I was tapping on my wheel, glaring down at the shiny, silver vehicle.

I heard a knock on my passenger side window. I looked over and was shocked to see that it was Tyler. I glanced back into my rearview to see that he had left his car running – the door open. I rolled down the window half way, which was as far as it would go without me muscling it.

"Sorry, Tyler, I'm stuck behind Cullen." I was annoyed – obviously this wasn't my fault.

"Oh, I know – I just wanted to ask you something while were trapped here." He grinned at me and I bit back a curse. This is impossible!

"Will you ask me to the spring dance?" He asked me, showing of a rather charming smile. But I was not fooled, nor was I patient enough.

"I'm not in town." I said sharply. I tried to remember it wasn't his fault that he was the third person to ask me, so he hadn't been the one to eat up all my patience.

"Yeah, Mike said that," my anger flared.

"Then why-"

"I was hoping you were letting him down easy." He said, bowing his head. Okay. I lied. He deserved my wrath.

"I really am going out of town. Now I am getting cold, so I'm going to have to ask you to go so I can roll up my window."

"That's cool. We still have prom." Before I could respond, he was walking back to his car. I could feel the shock on my face. No way. No way! I looked forward to see Alice, Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper all sliding into the Volvo. In his rearview mirror, Edward's eyes were on me. He was most definitely shaking with laughter as if he had heard every word between Tyler and I. My foot itched twards the gas petal as I tightened my grip on the wheel. I revved my engine, completely ready to take the fall for at least ruining that silver complexion of his bumper.

But they were all in by then and Edward was speeding away. I drove home slowy, angrily, mumbling to myself the entire journey. By the time I did get home, I decided to make chicken curry. It wasn't a hard process, but it was a long one and it would keep me busy.

The phone rang – I let it ring three times, too afraid of any male voice – before I went ot answer it in case it was for Lucy, or it was someone important. It ended up being a rather jubilant Jessica, who had called me to tell me Mike had said yes to her invitation. I celebrated with her briefly while I stirred the rice I was making. She had to go – she needed to call other people to tell them, but I was first on the list. It was kind of nice, had I not been suspicious it was because she wanted to rub it in my face. I suggested that Angela could ask Eric to go and Lauren could ask Tyler. It would tie up my lose ends and I know that Angela would need some pushing to ask anyone anyway. Jess agreed and told me she would tell them. Now that she had Mike all tied up in the bag, she even sounded sincere when she said she wished I could go to the dance with them. I sighed and gave her my Seattle excuse.

After I hung up, I tried to concentrate on dinner – dicing the chicken especially. Hospital trips were my MO but I didn't want to make another one so soon.

His name made my head spin. I tried to understand everything that he had said to me today, what did it all mean? Why was it better if we are not friends?

My stomach twisted as I realizes what me must have meant. He must see how absorbed I was by him; he must not want to lead me on... so we couldn't even be friends... because he wasn't interested in me at all.

I would just have to learn to leave him alone. And that was fine. I could do that. I would get through my self-imposed sentence here in purgatory and then hopefully some school in the Europe, like London, would offer me a scholarship.

Lucy was worried when I told her we were having Indian food, she was not one for spice as I had found out after making him steak that was nearly too spicey for her to eat. I had made sure that it wasn't too bad just because I remembered this though and she seemed to like it. It was fun to watch her slowly begin trusting me in the kitchen.

"Lucy?" I asked when he was almost done.

"Yeah, Proms?"

"Um, I was just going to let you know that I'm off to Seattle for the day a week from Saturday. As long as that's okay with you?" I didn't want to ask permission, it set a bad precedent, but felt rude not to. So I slopped it on the end of my statement.

"Why?" She sounded surprisd. Did she really think that Forks had everything to offer?

"I wanted to get some new books – the library here doesn't have them. And maybe even look at some clothes." Thanks to Lucy purchasing me a car, I now had more money than I knew what to do with. It would be nice to be able to go shopping, even though in the end I knew I wouldn't come home with any clothes. I was far too judgemental of my body for that. She knew it too.

"You don't know your way around here much." She informed. I sighed, she was right. But it was something I was willing to put up with to avoid the pain of that dance.

"I'll look up the directions if I have to."

"Are you going all by yourself?" She asked and I couldn't tell if she was suspicious over a possible secret love affair I was brewing behind her back, or if she was worried about me getting lost.

"Yup."

"Seattle is a big city – you could get lost." She muttered.

" Lucy, I'll be fine. Juneau is just as big as Seattle."

"Do you want me to come with you?" I tried to hide my horror and was sly about my answer.

"Do you want to be bored in dressing rooms all day? I'll be fine."

"Oh, okay. You'll just have to be careful."

"Thanks." I smiled at her.

"Will you be back in time for the dance?" Damnit! Only in a town this small would your guardian actually know when the school dance was.

"No – not interested." She knew I hated to dance.

The next morning when I pulled inside the school parking lot, I deliberately parked as far away from the silver Volvo as I could manage. I didn't want to put myself in the path of destruction that I was far too tempted to commit and end up owing him a new car with all the money I had saved and then some.

Getting out of the Mustang, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle right at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and got to it irst. I jerked upright to see Edward Cullen next to me, leaning casually against my car. He held the keys out tauntingly.

"How do you do that?" I asked in irritation.

"Do what?" He asked, dropping the key in my hand.

"Appear out of nowhere."

"Promise, it's not my fault that you are exceptionally unobservant." His voice was quiet as usual, velvet and honey, but muted. I scowled at his beauty, noticing that his eyes were again much lighter today, that deep, golden honey colour to match his voice.

"Why the traffic jam last night?" I muttered darkly. "I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating me to death."

"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." He snickered.

"You!" I couldn't think of anything bad enough to call him at this moment. He only seemed amused.

So you are trying to irritate me to death. Tyler's van wasn't a good enough cause of death?" Anger flashed in his golden eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all the humour seemed to be gone from his very being.

"Promise, you are utterly absurd." His voice was back to it's startling cold, the cold that shouldn't have been so startling since I heard it, but it never ceased to surprise me. I started to turn my back when I felt the urge to slap him, this was a trait that I had inherited from my sister, not one I had been born with. As I was walking away he called out to me and easily kept pace.

"I'm sorry, that was rude." He said as we walked. I ignored him. "I'm not saying it isn't true, but it was rude to say it anyway."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," he chuckled. He seemed to have recovered his good humor.

"Do you have multiple personality disorder? My dad says-"

"You're doing it again." I sighed and stopped, looking at him as I tapped my foot impatiently.

"Fine then. What is you wished to ask me, Edward?" the formality of it made him smie.

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday – you know, the day of the spring dance – " my heart sputtered in my chest. It was like all I had wanted for the past two months was currently being presented to me. I glared at him, not taking the bait.

"Are you trying to be funny?" I interrupted. The rain fell on my face as I looked up at his expression.

His eyes were wickedly amused. "Will you please allow me to finish?"

I bit my lip and crossed my arms, waiting once again.

"I heard you saying that you were headed to Seattle that day, and I was wondering if you wanted a ride."

That was unexpected. "What?"

" Do you want a ride to Seattle?"

"With who?" I asked, mystified.

"Myself, obviously." He ennunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped. I was still stunned.

"Why?"

"Well I was planning on going to Seattle in the next few weeks, and to be honest, I'm not sure if you can find your way there without getting lost."  
"I can find my way there on my own, thank you very much for your concern." I started to walk again, but I was too surprised to maintain the same level of anger.

" But can you find your way there without any help. He matched my pace again.

" I really don't think that's any of your business." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

" The offer for directions is everyone's business."

"Honestly, Edward." I felt a thrill go through me as I said his name, and I hated it. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."

"Oh, thanks, now that that is all cleared up. Heavy sarcasm.

I realized I had stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could easily look at his face.

"It would be more...prudent for you not to be my friend," he explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Promise." His eyes were gloriously intense again as he uttered the last sentence, his voice was smoldering. It took me a moment or seven to remember how to breathe.

"Will you go with me to Seattle?" he asked, still intense. And since I couldn't speak, I nodded.

He smiled briefly and nodded his own head, like he was relishing the moment before his face became deadly serious once again.

"You really should should stay away from me," he warned.  
He turned abruptly and walked away from me.


End file.
